


The Devil and The Deathgod

by TheCrossoverQueen



Category: Bleach, Eyeshield 21
Genre: Crack Pairing, Crack Treated Seriously, Crossover, Crossover Pairing, Flashbacks, Fluff, Hero!Ichigo, Hiruma in danger, Hostage Situation, Identity Reveal, M/M, Protective!Ichigo, Rare Pairings, Rated E for a reason, Yaoi, secret keeping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 21:02:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 32,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12779445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCrossoverQueen/pseuds/TheCrossoverQueen
Summary: The chance of Hiruma Yoichi and Kurosaki Ichigo meeting was less than 0%. The chance of one asking the other out on a date was even less. But somehow, it happens anyway and each try to unravel the complicated life of the other.Crossposted on fanfiction.net





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction that I've published. I published it on fanfiction.net first, but I just love AO3 so much that I wanted to put it here too. Hope you like it!

The light slap of Ichigo’s sandals as he paced the room over and over again was starting to make some of the captains twitch. The sun hadn’t even begun to set yet on the Captain Commander’s office in the First Division. The light was still a golden glow, but the shadows stretched out over the floor like monsters grasping for a foot from under the bed and Ichigo paced, heedless of their shape.  
“Kurosaki, pacing will not make the passage of time go faster.” Kuchiki Byakuya said almost impatiently. An almost imperceptible muscle had started to twitch at the corner of his mouth, not noticeable to anyone except those that knew him. Ichigo just lightly growled at him and continued pacing until the Captain Commander once again entered his office.  
“Well?” Ichigo asked impatiently.  
“The servants of the Raiko household have confirmed that there is an unknown guest staying in the main house. I’ve mobilized the Onmitsukido. They are simply waiting for the right time to move.”  
“I’m going with them.” Ichigo declared, every inch of his no-nonsense. The chance of him staying behind was the same as it was letting Rukia get executed the first time he’d come to Soul Society.  
Yamamoto sighed, “I thought you might say that.”  
He gestured to his Vice-Captain to come forward. Sasikabe approached Ichigo with a bundle of black clothing in his arms.   
“This is an Onmitsukido uniform.” Yamamoto said, “You will go with the extraction team as one of their own.” He opened his eye to pin Ichigo with a glaring gaze, “That means listening to the team leader and not running off by yourself!”  
Ichigo nodded seriously and took the clothes from Sasikabe. This was his one chance to rescue one of his precious people. He wasn’t going to screw it up, so he wouldn’t go rushing in, no matter how much he wanted to. The situation was delicate. It was fragile. It was as easy to tear as wet rice paper and if it did, the consequences would be suffered by the one who held Ichigo’s heart.  
“You leave an hour after midnight. Report to your team leader in the Second Division for the details of your mission.”   
Ichigo nodded again and followed Soi-Fon to her division, all the while thinking of one Hiruma Yoichi and how they met.  
\---------------------------------  
Ichigo was being followed. It was very subtle and he doubted that a normal human would have noticed, but Ichigo didn’t go through a war and not learn a few things, like being able to tell when someone was tailing him. Ichigo used the reflections in the windows of the shops he was passing to study the guy. The reflection was faint, but it was hard not to notice the spiky bleach blond hair. He’s been acting like he’s been on his cell phone the whole time, but he was definitely following Ichigo. He stayed an exact ten steps behind him the whole time and no one was that perfect when they were absentmindedly texting on their phone.   
Ichigo quickly ducked into a small alley and crouched behind a foul-smelling dumpster, waiting for the guy to follow him in. Ichigo could barely see him over the black trash bags as he cautiously entered the alley. The guy cursed at losing him, no longer playing being on his phone, and rushed towards the end of the tiny alley. He probably though Ichigo had made a run for it. Right when he was about to come across him in his hiding place, Ichigo struck. He grabbed the blond by his dark jacket and shoved him into the opposite concrete wall, almost tripping over an overturned silver trashcan in the process.   
“Why are you following me?” demanded Ichigo. Wide green eyes looked at him through a few locks of blond fringe and for a second Ichigo was just a little bit worried that he’d maybe been wrong and an innocent bystander of his war-time paranoia wasn’t following him. Then the guy smiled, showing off a mouth full of sharp teeth, and cackled.  
“You’re more interesting than I thought.”  
Ichigo glared down at the very pointy teenager and demanded again, “Why are you following me?”  
“Because you’re interesting.”  
“That doesn’t answer my question very well.”  
“Maybe you’ll get a better answer if you get something to eat with me.”  
Ichigo’s eyebrows went up at that. “What?”  
“Get something to eat with me.”  
Ichigo slowly let go of the spiky teen’s black jacket after figuring out that he wasn’t messing with him. “Sorry, I don’t eat with strangers.”  
“Kurosaki Ichigo. Seventeen. Third year at Karakura High school. Two sisters and a father. Karate lessons for two years. Always gets into fights.” Hiruma listed off with ease, “I know plenty about you. The only stranger here is you.”  
Ichigo stared hard at him. A lot of what he’d listed off could easily be found out with a bit of snooping, but some of that other stuff, like how he took karate lessons when he was young, only his friends and family knew. Oh, sure there were records, but the dojo he’d attended had been small and without computers at the time. Whoever wanted them would be hard pressed to dig them up.   
“How do you know all that?”  
“Eat with me and maybe you’ll find out.”

The two ended up in a small café on the same street their confrontation happened. Hiruma sat sprawled in the uncomfortable metal wire chair while Ichigo rested his elbows on the table, manners be damned. Ichigo could tell the guy in front of him was only acting nonchalant. There was subtle tension running through his entire body. Only his face looked completely relaxed. “How did you know all that stuff back in the alley?” Ichigo asked.   
“Personal sources.” Hiruma smirked.   
Ichigo ground his teeth together, “If you’re not going to give me straight answers, I’m leaving.”  
Ichigo saw a tiny twitch of the head at that. He narrowed his eyes. For whatever reason, this guy didn’t want him to leave.   
“Who are you anyway?”  
“Hiruma Yoichi.”  
“Kurosaki Ichigo,” Ichigo stopped his fists from clenching, no need to give anything away, “but you already know that.” He sat back and crossed his arms, trying to calm himself down. This guy couldn’t do anything to him that hasn’t been done before during the war. “How do you know me?”  
Hiruma sat forward and laced his fingers together on the table, deciding to actually be serious. “Do you remember playing in an American football game a week ago?”  
Ichigo gave him a look. “It was only a week ago. Of course I remember it.”  
“Well, I saw that match. I’m the captain of one of the other football teams and I managed to figure out who the mysterious number fifteen from Karakura was. You’ve impressed a lot of people. Other players are searching for you to either recruit you or go against you.” Hiruma explained.   
“And which one are you?”  
“Neither. I found you for fun, but the more I found out about you the more interesting you got.”   
“And?” Ichigo prompted when Hiruma didn’t say anything else. Ichigo remained nonchalant when the silence dragged on. 

Here, Hiruma was stuck. It was one of the rare times in his life when he didn’t want to blackmail someone. He didn’t need a puppet. He wanted a… companion? Or the dreaded word, a boyfriend? Hiruma didn’t know what the fuck he wanted. Only that he wanted to spend time around Kurosaki and really get to know him. He was a mystery and Hiruma loved a good mystery.   
But, Hiruma didn’t know how to ask Kurosaki out without sounding like a total freak. He’s never asked anyone out, really. He’s never needed or wanted to.   
Hiruma opened and closed his mouth wordlessly as the waitress brought them their food, giving Ichigo an appreciative glance and Hiruma a slightly terrified one. Ichigo didn’t notice or care and Hiruma was used to the looks.   
“Well?” Ichigo asked as he dug into his food, “Why did you decide to follow me?”  
Hiruma just stared at him as he ate and thought ‘Fuck it. I’m already a fool and I’ll be a fool any way I go about this.’  
“Will you go out with me?”

“Will you go out with me?”  
Ichigo choked on the food he was about to swallow and coughed harshly. He flailed for a few seconds and grabbed a glass of water, chugging it, forcing the food down. His airways cleared and he panted, relieved at being able to breathe again.   
“What?” he exclaimed, slightly hoarse.  
“Will you go out with me?” Hiruma repeated. Ichigo could see that despite him being seemingly composed, Hiruma was nervous. A drop of sweat slid down the side of his face and his fingers couldn’t stop fidgeting. Hiruma couldn’t meet his eyes.  
“I don’t even know you!”  
“Isn’t that what dates are for? To get to know each other?”  
Well, that was true, but, “You stalked me!”  
Hiruma crossed his arms, “I followed you for five minutes.” He was silent for a minute and before Ichigo could say anything else, quietly admitted, “I didn’t know how to ask you.”  
Ichigo could see it took a lot for Hiruma to admit that. He knew that it took a lot of courage to ask someone out, not that he ever has, but he was sure it was doubly more so to ask someone you didn’t actually know.  
The kid at least looked interesting with his spikey blond hair, pointy ears, and piercings. He’d seen stranger looking in Soul Society. Honestly, Ichigo had never thought of accepting someone’s offer for a date.   
Ichigo thought as he continued eating. Why shouldn’t he go out with the guy? No had ever had the guts to actually follow him around to ask him out. Everyone at school except his friends was still kind of intimidated by him. He knew a few girls have tried, but they never managed to get it out and Ichigo just ignored notes in his shoes locker. Something like this, he believed, should be face to face, like this Hiruma guy was doing. Ichigo really didn’t care who asked him out was a boy or a girl. What was important was that he liked them and he liked that Hiruma went after what he wanted and didn’t let anything deter him.   
Across from him, Hiruma was trying, and succeeding, to keep his shoulders from rising up past his ears. He was pretty good at hiding his reactions and emotions, but Ichigo had learned to read people in battle where a simple shift of the leg could change your opponent’s whole attack. But Hiruma wasn’t an opponent. Ichigo often forgot that his age mates were still just kids, not war veterans at seventeen like he and his friends were.   
In the moment of watching Hiruma (subtly) fidget after just asking someone out, Ichigo thought ‘what the hell’. There was nothing to lose. Maybe he’d actually gain something.   
“Ok.” Said Ichigo.   
Hiruma stared at him, his eyes widening slightly. He leaned back in his chair again after a moment, feigning ease when Ichigo could see his pulse jumping in his neck. He didn’t say anything, just smirked, which Ichigo ignored.   
“So,” Ichigo said, setting his plate aside, “What did you have in mind?”  
\-------------------------  
Ichigo smiled while walking to the Second Division at the thought of Hiruma mentally flailing as he tried to come up with a date. Back then, Ichigo saw the blankness in his eyes as tried to think of something to do. They’d finally ended up going to see the newest horror movie, that they’d both agreed was stupid in the end.   
\-----------------------------  
Walking back to the train station after the movie was going about as well as their talk in the café had. That is, they were barely getting by. They were silent on their walk. The awkwardness of every first date surrounded them in a haze and neither knew what to say to the other. The movie had gone off without a hitch. Both watched it silently, neither looking at the other and hands snatched away when they accidently touched in the popcorn bucket.   
“So…” Ichigo said, trying to think of something to say.  
“That was fucking stupid.” Hiruma said.  
Ichigo was silent. Was he talking about the movie or the date? Ichigo really hoped he was talking about the movie. He didn’t want the date to be a bust. Hiruma had gone through a lot of trouble to ask him out.   
“There were probably a whole bunch of knives in the kitchen they could’ve used to defend themselves.” Hiruma continued.  
Ichigo relaxed. He was talking about the movie.  
“Worst case scenario, they could’ve broken a mirror and used the shards as weapons.” Ichigo said.  
“Or a window. And what the fuck was the blonde girl thinking when she ran out into the woods?”  
“Yeah. There was no one around for miles. Where was she going to go?”  
“Heh. And when that guy tripped. If you’re running from a killer, you should fucking pick your legs up when you run. I hate horror movies. The people in them are so fucking stupid.”  
Ichigo looked at him curiously, “Then why did you choose a horror movie for us to watch?”  
“I watch them for the special effects.” Hiruma replied  
They walked the rest of the way to the station talking about movie effects and how Hiruma applied them to real life. When they got to the station, both were unusually uneager to part.  
Ichigo rubbed the back of his head, standing in front of Hiruma. There was a lot more to him that he didn’t know and from their conversation, he was an interesting person.  
“Want to ty again?” he asked.  
Hiruma was looking off to the side, towards where the train would come in. He was still playing relaxed, slouching with his hands in his pockets, but it was more truthful than in the café.   
“Sure.” He said, “Coffee?”  
Ichigo smiled, “Sure.”

A week after the movie saw Ichigo sitting in class, staring out the window on a bright autumn day. He wasn’t paying attention to a word the teacher was saying. Instead, he was thinking about one Hiruma Yoichi.   
Hiruma Yoichi was interesting to say the least. He looked interesting with his bleach blond hair, pointy ears, and sharp teeth. He talked interesting with his curse words in every other sentence. (Curse words have never bothered Ichigo anyway.) He was just interesting. An enigma. Sure, he scared and shocked people for fun, but the way he did it was genius. It kind of reminded him of Shakespeare in a way. Shakespeare wrote foolish stories and was applauded as a genius. Hiruma does genius things and, well, Ichigo doubted people thought of Hiruma as a fool, but his genius definitely wasn’t as recognized as it should’ve been.   
When Hiruma talked about the things he did with special effects, all but the simplest of it went right over Ichigo’s head. He talked about the effect of gunpowder in fireworks and how he used it to control his explosions and make them flashier. He talked about FX make-up and setting a ‘stage’ for a ‘performance’. At one point Ichigo thinks he might’ve talked about something to do with trajectories, but Hiruma was talking so rapidly and enthusiastically that it’d gone right over Ichigo’s head and onto the next topic. It was great.  
Hiruma wasn’t like the girls who’d confessed to Ichigo before. They’d been too shy to even speak to him let alone have a conversation with him. Hiruma wasn’t shy in the least. He knew what he liked and disliked and he wasn’t afraid to disagree with you and cuss you out in the process. He spoke his mind. He didn’t care what others thought. He wasn’t afraid of hurting someone’s feelings. Ichigo thought that was much better than someone just blushing and stuttering the whole time.   
Ichigo caught himself smiling out the window, into the sun’s rays and a confused expression replaced it. It’d only been two dates and he already knew he liked Hiruma. He could only wait and see if it was as a friend or more.   
Their second date, a coffee date in Tokyo, had gone as well as the end of their first date. At first they’d talked stiltedly, but eventually it started flowing better and better until they were talking easily with each other. Ichigo had enjoyed himself immensely and Hiruma had almost completely relaxed by the end of it. Ichigo was curious about what could make Hiruma so on guard all the time, but he didn’t ask. He wasn’t even sure if Hiruma was aware that he never relaxed.   
They’d talked about school and the idiots in their classes. They’d talked about Ichigo’s fighting, how people from even Tokyo came to Karakura just to challenge him, and how quite a few gangs in the surrounding town had made fighting him an initiation rite. (Ichigo hadn’t known that. He just beat up whoever came to fight him.) Most of all, they talked about football, which Hiruma very obviously loved. The word ‘obsessed’ came to mind.   
In that one conversation, Ichigo had learned more about football and the high school players than he’d ever learned by playing the few games he had. Hiruma had even shown him some clips on his phone.   
“You’re really into this aren’t you?” Ichigo had asked with a smile.   
Hiruma had bluntly replied, “Of course. I wouldn’t have been playing it for this long if it didn’t like it.”  
“Oh? How long have you been playing?” Ichigo prompted.  
And that had encouraged Hiruma to launch into how he’d first discovered football (“An American military base?”) and how he’d gathered each member of his team. Ichigo loved his enthusiasm. He’d never seen anything like it in anyone else. Sure, a lot of Shinigami in Soul Society had their love of fighting, but that was different. That was the fighting spirit of warriors. This was something else. Something Ichigo couldn’t quite pinpoint. It was something that made Ichigo himself excited about a sport he’d never cared about before.   
“That’s amazing.” Ichigo had laughed in response to Hiruma’s tale about how he had gathered his team.  
“It worked out,” Hiruma shrugged, “Better than anything I could’ve planned.”  
“Sometimes life does that.” Ichigo agreed, thinking about how he’d had no idea what he wanted to do with his life and now Soul Society was paying him a captain’s wage for exterminating hollows and protecting an ingredient for the king’s key-- Karakura Town.   
Hiruma huffed, “Life’s a bitch. Always messing up my plans.”  
Ichigo chuckled.   
“You know they’re starting to call you The Comet?”  
“Huh?” Ichigo made a confused noise at Hiruma.  
“The high school football world. The players, the coaches, the magazines. They’re calling you The Comet. Because you suddenly appeared in the world of football and disappeared just as quickly.”  
Ichigo sat back. “Huh,” he stated, “That’s—“  
Weird. It was still weird that a bunch of people he didn’t know had given him a name.   
Ichigo’s hollow alert on his phone went off, bringing him out of his thoughts. He wondered how long he’d been staring out the window like a love struck fool and raised his hand with one of his typical excuses on his lips, ready to run out of class to protect his town.  
\----------------  
That date had gone really well for a second date. There’d hardly been any awkward silence at all. The third date had gone even better.  
\---------------------  
Ichigo was waiting for Hiruma when his train came into the Karakura station. Ichigo smiled at him under the pasty lights of the station and Hiruma denied that it made his heart beat a little faster. They chatted leisurely as they made their way downtown to the small restaurant Ichigo had in mind for dinner.  
“—and then the fucking chibi thought he was going to hang himself with a fucking coat hanger!”  
Ichigo laughed, “Well, I’m sure from a distance it looked like a noose.”  
“…Not even the same fucking shape.” Hiruma muttered.  
“People tend to panic when faced with a situation like that.”  
“Yeah, yeah.” Hiruma waved him off.  
“Here we are.” Ichigo opened the door for Hiruma to a small mom and pop restaurant in the middle of down town Karakura. Hiruma was surprised to see the inside of it looking decidedly western. The restaurant was a wide open space with rafters almost like a barn. The wallpaper depicted desert scenes and everything had a rustic look to it. There were cow skulls and horse knickknacks and wagon wheels in odd places and the waitresses were wearing cow spotted skirts.   
“Cowboys? Are you fucking serious?”  
“Shut up.” Ichigo laughed, “They have good food. This has been my favorite restaurant since I was a kid.”   
Hiruma imagined a little Ichigo eating there with a tiny cowboy hat on his head, like the one a kid was wearing now with a different family, and decided that if he could get a picture of that, he would have very good blackmail material indeed. Then he berated himself. He wasn’t supposed to blackmail his…boyfriend? He didn’t want just another slave he reminded himself.  
Their waitress, who had black hair and a red cowgirl hat, led them to a red booth with squeaky seats. It had a window facing the chilly, lit up streets of Karakura. They were actually pretty empty compared to Tokyo. Hiruma poked at the sad looking miniature cactus that served as the tan table’s centerpiece and smirked.  
“Shut up,” Ichigo said playfully again. Hiruma raised his hands in surrender.   
“I didn’t say anything.”  
“You were going to.” Ichigo accused.  
Hiruma just smirked again. After a few minutes of looking at the old west named dishes on the old saloon door shaped menus, the waitress came back, her loud earrings jangling with her gait, and took their orders.   
“So how’s that Comet thing? Has it died down yet?”  
“Nope,” said Hiruma, sipping at his drink, “It’s just gotten bigger. American Football Monthly posted videos of you playing in those games on their website.”  
Ichigo groaned, dropping his head to the table.  
“At least they don’t know who you are.” Hiruma said.  
“Yeah. Let’s keep it that way.”  
Hiruma just drank his soda and sat back in his seat, the booth springs squeaking, with a mischievous glint in his eye.  
“Hiruma. We’ll keep it that way, right?”  
Hiruma set his soda on the table with a light ‘tap’. The edges of his mouth were twitching.   
“Hiruma.”  
Hiruma shot Ichigo his signature wide demonic grin that showed off every single one of his deadly-looking teeth. Ichigo wasn’t fazed by it. He often saw worse on the eleventh division captain’s face. Even the hollows he saw everyday had deadly grins worse than Hiruma’s. Ichigo crossed his arms at him. The fake grin faltered, then faded. Hiruma gave Ichigo a considering look. He studied him for a minute, then came to a conclusion that Ichigo could see in his eyes. Hiruma knew that Ichigo wasn’t affected by how he looked. Still sitting back in his seat, Hiruma also crossed his arms, almost gaining a pouting look if it weren’t for the seriousness on his face.  
“You’re not unnerved by me.” He tried to say it nonchalantly, but Ichigo could see his curiousness.  
“No.” Ichigo said, uncrossing his arms and leaning on his elbows on the table.  
“Most people are.”  
“I’m not most people.”  
Each tried to star the other down and neither looked away. Hiruma narrowed his eyes at Ichigo, putting up a mask of confrontation to hide his disbelief and confusion.   
“Why?”  
Ichigo didn’t miss a beat when he said, “Because it’s just a mask.”  
Inside, Hiruma was stunned for a moment, but outside he glared at Ichigo.  
“It is not—“  
“It is.” Ichigo interrupted him, “At least, that wide smile is. It’s all teeth, it’s too wide, and it doesn’t reach your eyes. It’s too fake to be real. It’s used to intimidate people because it’s too unnatural. And it usually succeeds, doesn’t it?”  
Hiruma stayed silent, glaring at Ichigo with his arms still crossed.   
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Hiruma said.  
“I do. I’ve made enough fake smiles to recognize one when I see one. But I want you to know that you don’t have to pretend around me. I hate it when people fake a smile anyway.”  
Hiruma just stared at him, his surprise almost showing through. No one ever saw through his demonic smiles. Not even Musashi and Kurita, though they were aware that sometimes they weren’t as genuine as everyone thought, they never saw through them like Kurosaki seemed to. He’d never run into anyone who could read him like Kurosaki could and Kurosaki could read him like a fucking book. He didn’t know what it was. He always successfully hid his emotions behind his demonic looks. It was better that people questioned his humanness, even though he was just as human as everyone else on the planet. But Kurosaki… Kurosaki saw through his looks straight to him. Hiruma wasn’t sure if he liked it or not and he wondered what Kurosaki’s reaction would be like when he whipped out his guns around him for the first time.   
“So on the way here you said you had a game this weekend?” Ichigo asked, changing the subject.  
“Yeah, against Kyoshin Poseidon.”  
“How do you think that will go?”  
“Che, we’ll win of course. Especially now that fucking fatty jr finally has his head in the game.”  
They spent a while talking about Hiruma’s next game and the hellish training he put his team through in preparation for it. Then, the waitress brought them their food and both fell silent to eat. For two teenagers only on their third date, it was a surprisingly comfortable silence.  
Ichigo thought as he munched on his barbeque burger, surreptitiously sneaking glances at Hiruma. He was trying to think of what to say once the two of them were done eating. It’s not like they would just stay silent the whole time Ichigo walked Hiruma back to the train station. Ichigo’s gaze wandered around the restaurant, taking in the sights and décor he’d known since he was a child. His eyes fell upon a few of the other patrons, a small family of three. A little brunet boy sat with a little red cowboy hat on his head, something the restaurant provided all children, gesturing animatedly with his fork at smiling parents.  
“What’s your family like?” Ichigo asked once last bites were taken and napkins were bunched into balls on plates.  
Hiruma stared at him with an unreadable expression on his face, but Ichigo didn’t start sweating or get nervous under that gaze. He just waited patiently when Hiruma turned to stare out the window.   
‘Okay,’ thought Ichigo as the waitress brought the bill, ‘that’s a topic to stay away from.’   
Ichigo grabbed the bill before Hiruma could. He didn’t say anything about it like Ichigo thought he would. Instead he just stared out the window, seemingly searching the streets with his eyes. He leaned against it, breath fogging the glass and golden streetlights painting his face in a way the sun never could. Ichigo was mesmerized by it and he still snuck glances at Hiruma as they walked the dark streets after paying their bill and leaving the restaurant. They walked under streetlight after streetlight. Each and every one of them showering Hiruma with a golden glow that made Ichigo’s breath stutter in his chest, even as Hiruma seemed lost in thought, until the stark white lights of the train station interrupted the pathway of gold raining down on them.   
Hiruma’s train to Tokyo rolled in, but he stopped before getting on.  
“Look,” Ichigo said before Hiruma could say anything, “I’m sorry if the question I asked was a sore topic for you. You don’t have to talk about anything you’re uncomfortable with.”  
Hiruma shut his mouth that he’d opened to talk before Ichigo had interrupted him and nodded. He took something out of his pocket and held out a ticket to Ichigo.  
“This is a ticket to my game on Saturday.” Hiruma said simply. Ichigo stared at it for a minute, taken a little off guard. Then, he smiled blindingly and took it.  
“I’ll be there.” He said.   
Hiruma just ‘che-ed’ and got on the train.  
\-------------------------  
The game had been great. It’d made even Ichigo pumped up for a sport he’d never cared for before, past when he’d been hired to play. Nothing but fighting, real battle, had gotten Ichigo that pumped in a while. He had to admit it amused him when the players in those games referred to them as ‘battles’ and playing as ‘fighting’. It really cemented the fact that the players, his age mates, really were just kids with no idea of the real world. That’s what he fought to make sure of though and now Yoichi was being faced with that real world.  
\------------------------  
The cheerleaders in strange costumes had been the first thing Ichigo noticed when he entered the stadium. Not for the reason most teenage boys noticed them, no, but because of the very tall, very male member in the middle of them. The guy cheered along with the cheerleaders before jumping into the air to do a couple of flips and land in a handstand. The crowd cheered his name.  
“Mizumachi! Mizumachi!”  
Ichigo was not impressed. He’s seen greater feats of physical strength done, but he supposed if he were a normal human, it might’ve been impressive. Mizumachi faced his side of the stadium to challenge on of Deimon’s players, and for the first time, Ichigo saw Hiruma’s team. They were a strange bunch, full of mismatched people that seemed to clash with each other, but these were the people that Hiruma had almost proudly told him about.   
Hiruma proved that his large pointed ears weren’t just for show when he overheard two people in the crowd talking about a bounty on one of the smaller players, who Ichigo guessed was ‘fucking fatass jr’. The little player thoroughly impressed the entire crowd when he lifted the pile of people that had tackled him with yen signs in their eyes to capture him for his bounty.  
Mizumachi and the small player faced each other with expressions Ichigo would recognize anywhere. They were challenging each other, but not in battle. They were challenging each other on a field, in a sport, in a high school game. In the moment Ichigo saw their expressions, he forgotten where he was for a second and who he was looking at.   
High school students. Ichigo reminded himself, it’s just a game. His eyes traveled to Hiruma’s back. But a game taken very seriously by some.  
“Doburoku-sensei!” a shrill voice brought his eyes back to the rest of the Devilbats players and he saw someone else dramatically coming out onto the field, cloaked in shadows. It was…a naked old man with a pig and only a leaf covering between his legs. Ichigo made a face and some other people in the stands made noises of disgust when they saw who had come out.  
‘Doburoku…the coach they had to get out of debt in America and practically drag him back to Japan?’ Ichigo thought. ‘That’s their coach?’  
Poseidon’s fans started cheering and the Devilbats huddled up and cried “We’ll kill them!” Ichigo chuckled at the shout. Partly because of the seriousness of such a heavy statement coming out of the high schooler’s mouths and partly because it was very obviously Hiruma who had come up with the cry.  
“The nationwide American football tournament! Deimon vs Kyoshin, collision of the strong newcomers! Game Start!” the announcer’s voice rang through the stadium and the fans cheered even louder for the start of the game.   
Ichigo kept his eyes on Hiruma the whole game, watching him be a quarterback, a commander.  
Mizumachi tore through Deimon’s line at first. Ichigo laughed when Hiruma raged at three of the players, being held back by their biggest player, as he threw something at them. Ichigo could hear it all the way from where he sat in the stands.   
“Were you all asleep or something, you fucking shrimps?! The plan cards are no use if you all get blocked by Mizumachi alone!”  
Their next face-off, little number fifty-five actually managed to get past Mizumachi with strength and determination after a large man that bore a striking resemblance to him had yelled at him from the side of the field. But after that, once again, Mizumachi got past him with that strange arm technique and was able to tackle Hiruma as he was about to throw the ball.   
Ichigo scowled hard, scaring the people next to him, and clenched his fists. He took a deep breath through his teeth and reminded himself that it was just part of the game and that Hiruma was wearing protective padding. Hiruma got right back up and started kicking at Fifty-Five, probably for letting Mizumachi through.  
Two unsuccessful plays for Deimon later and Hiruma was blocked from throwing by two of Kyoshin’s tallest players. In an instant, Hiruma switched from throwing to number eighty to throwing to Twenty-one, and Ichigo almost gaped. To be able to switch targets so quickly, it was almost like being able to change your stance and sword’s position in an instant in battle. Hiruma’s eyes were sharp and his reflexes quick and Ichigo flashed a blinding smile at him, even though he couldn’t see it.  
Kyoshin finally scored a touchdown in the next play, putting them in the lead. Hiruma whipped out a bunch of guns and started shooting at his teammates when they blocked Deimon’s next play as well. Ichigo raised an eyebrow at that, but no one but him seemed surprised at the action and the bullets just bounced harmlessly off of the players so Ichigo let it go for now. He just chalked it up to another one of Hiruma eccentricities. It was going to take a while to get used to the guns… Ichigo thought. He was used to swords, not guns. Swords were swift and silent, guns were loud and flashy. Right up Hiruma’s alley.  
The Devilbats played a significantly different formation after they’d huddled up for a few minutes. The number of runners in the back with the quarterback was three. The play started and Hiruma faked passing the ball, running with it himself. Ichigo cheered with the rest of the fans and startled when Hiruma threw the ball to Eyeshield without even looking his way.   
‘He’s good’. Ichigo thought. Hiruma was in his element.  
Play by play, Deimon slowly gained back the yards they’d lost to Kyoshin and Ichigo finally caught the name of the technique—Wishbone. It was an amazing play. It was even more amazing once you realized it was all up to the quarterback to make the right decision in the split second of seeing the opponent’s play. Ichigo’s ears picked up Hiruma’s name coming from guy farther down in the bleachers.  
“Hiruma Yoichi. He’s truly the Deimon Devilbat’s hidden ace!”  
A wide grin spread out across Ichigo’s face, almost hollow-like in its appearance, but for the absence of maliciousness.  
‘Their hidden ace, huh? Hiruma, you’re amazing’. Ichigo truly meant that. He himself could never read a play with that many people so quickly. The usual one-on-one fights he found himself in were much simpler because there was only one opponent, but Hiruma could read all eleven players at once and make a split second decision. Ichigo knew that, had Hiruma received the right training, he would have made a formidable warrior.  
‘Training…’ Now there was an idea.  
Hiruma scored a touchdown in the next play and Ichigo cheered with the rest of the crowd. The first half was over a few minutes later and the two teams retreated to their respective benches to rest and rehydrate. Ichigo kept his eyes on Hiruma as he sat on the bench and removed his helmet. He drank from his water bottle and seemed to feel eyes on him because he turned around and looked at the stands. He met Ichigo’s eyes and Ichigo gave him a wide grin before Hiruma turned back around to eye the Kyoshin team.   
As Hiruma turned back around, Ichigo noticed that he was the only one of the Deimon players that had sat down on the bench. The rest of the players surrounded him like an honor guard, watching the opposing team with him, listening to what he was saying. Hiruma really was their commander.  
The first play after half-time was over had everyone in the crowd and even the announcer shocked.  
“Th-the Devilbat Ghost has been crushed.” He announced over the speakers.  
‘What’s the big deal?’ Ichigo thought, ‘Just get up and try again. Or try something else. You only lose when you give up.’ But Deimon’s players, even Hiruma, seemed taken off guard.  
Kyoshin gained three more points when the next play started with a kickoff and they successfully kicked the ball into the goal. Deimon’s Wishbone failed once again and Eyeshield’s spirit was down. He was becoming complacent with the turn of events instead of fighting it with everything he had.  
Deimon’s manager started waving her arms around, trying to tell them something and Hiruma seemed to be the only one to get it if his devious smile was anything to go by. The next Wishbone succeeded by passing it to a so far insignificant player. The Wishbone after that also worked, leading to Hiruma giving the player who ran a big kick in the ass in…congratulations?   
‘I’ve still got a lot of things to learn about Hiruma.’ Ichigo thought.  
Kyoshin had another technique up their sleeve, it seemed, when their four tallest players took position in the back. During the next few plays, Deimon was completely blocked. Until Deimon’s Fifty-One finally broke through and almost tackled Kyoshin’s quarterback. The quarterback quickly threw the ball, scoring Kyoshin a touchdown, before he could get to him, though.  
‘He’s a pretty good quarterback.’ Ichigo admitted, ‘But not as good as Hiruma.’ He smiled.  
The little voice of Ichigo’s hollow cackled in the back of his head. ‘You’ve got it bad, King.’ It said.  
‘Shut up.’ Ichigo shushed him, but he couldn’t deny what his hollow had said.  
Again and again Deimon was blocked by Kyoshin’s Poseidon technique, but they tried their hardest. They didn’t quit. With eighteen seconds left on the clock, Hiruma addressed Eyeshield with the team standing around them. Ichigo couldn’t hear what was being said, but they all had serious looks on their faces. Eyeshield said one last thing to Hiruma and Hiruma got the most pleased and devious look on his face.   
Ichigo shivered a little at that look. It brought out all the pretty things about Hiruma. The sharpness of his eyes, the angle of his face, his hair over his eyes, the stretch of his lips in that grin. It brought out a look of wildness and Ichigo loved it.  
“Only eighteen seconds left on the clock! If Deimon can’t score a touchdown with this offensive, they lose their chance at a comeback victory!” the announcer shouted.  
The players lined up in their positions, the crowd was cheering for their respective teams and finally, Hiruma shouted “Hut!” showing off his impressive fangs behind the helmet’s guard. Hiruma handed the ball off to Eyeshield twenty-one and he ran straight into Kyoshin’s forty-one’s path. Every single player on that field was trying their hardest, giving it their all, and putting their whole bodies and spirits into the game. Eyeshield almost stopped in front of Forty-one, he almost gave up. Then he ran right towards him, not even bothering to try to find an alternate route, and put a spin into his run. He spun and ran right by Forty-one and everyone, even Hiruma, thought that he had a clear path to a touchdown.  
Then Seventy-One, Mizumachi, made one last desperate lunge for Eyeshield and just barely stopped him.   
“Stop the clock!” shouted one of Deimon’s linemen.  
“Time out!” howled Hiruma desperately.  
The clock barely stopped with a few second left and Hiruma addressed his team for the last time during the game with a genuine grin on his face.  
‘I can’t wait till he gives me one of those.’ Ichigo smiled. This was what Hiruma loved about the game. The tension, the battle of wills, the spirit. The same reasons why Ichigo loved fighting.  
“Set! Hut!” Hiruma shouted. No one moved until the ninth hut and the field exploded in a flurry of activity. Every player rushed toward the center, two immovable forces pushing at each other, until little player number twenty-one jumped over everyone’s heads and landed across the other team’s goal line, scoring Deimon the winning points.  
“Touchdown!” the referee yelled.   
Deimon’s players smashed through Kyoshin’s linemen, cheering, ripping their helmets off and slapping Komusubi and Eyeshield on the backs in congratulations. Hiruma stood back, hands on his hips and smiling, watching his team celebrate.   
Ichigo had the biggest smile on his face as he clapped and cheered with everyone around him. Hiruma turned to face him and Ichigo raised his fist above his head in congratulations. Hiruma hefted his helmet above his head with one arm back at him in acknowledgement.   
The teams got in line and bowed to each other some shook hands with others and they talked and congratulated each other on a good game. Ichigo looked on from the stands almost sadly. If only his fights could end like this, with everyone making friends and able to go home with a good experience in mind. But his fights were not games. They were war. People got hurt. People died. You don’t make friends in war. You fight to protect friends. Ichigo’s phone beeped with a hollow warning. Speaking of…   
Ichigo left his seat and the stadium with a calm gait and serious eyes, opening his phone to see just where he was needed. Ichigo didn’t waste his time on wishful thinking. He had his precious people to protect, a group that Hiruma was quickly becoming a part of.  
\-----------------------------  
Ichigo didn’t remember the hollow that had dragged him away at the end, but he remembered every minute of that game. He remembered the complete contentedness in the lines of Hiruma’s tired body at the end of the game. He remembered the joyful, fang-filled grin throughout playing. It was a real grin, too. Not just a fake one he put up for the sake of other people, but one he wore for himself. That game was probably when Ichigo had really started falling for Yoichi.  
The sun was just starting to set as he and Soi-Fon entered the Second Division and the spaces where Shinigami frequently trained reminded him of their first date after the game.  
\------------------------------  
“Why the fuck are we going to a dojo?”  
“Because,” Ichigo said as he opened the sliding paper door, “I want to see how well you do in self-defense.”  
“I don’t know any self-defense.” Hiruma grumbled as he chucked his shoes.  
“Well, we’re going to change that.” Ichigo said simply as they entered the main part of the dojo.  
Tatsuki’s eyes widened a bit when they entered.  
“Ichigo!” she said surprised, usually she had to drag him to the dojo to get him to practice with her, “What are you doing here?”  
Ichigo raised a hand in greeting.  
“I’m actually here to teach Hiruma here some basics.”  
Tatsuki stared at the boy next to Ichigo. She stared at the pointed hair and ears, and the piercings, and the demonic fangs, and decided that he was probably another weird Shinigami friend of Ichigo’s.  
“You? Teach?” Tatsuki said, “The only way you’ve ever taught was by being a punching bag for me while I taught the kids in the beginning class.”  
Hiruma raised an eyebrow and Ichigo rubbed the back of his neck, almost embarrassed.  
“I’ve seen you teach. It doesn’t seem that hard. Do you have any extra space today?” Ichigo said before Tatsuki could say anything else.  
Tatsuki crossed her arms, “Yeah, we do. It’s a free day today, so the only ones here are the ones who want to get some extra training in.”   
“Tatsuki-Sensei! Are we going to continue?” called a younger guy from across the room.  
“Yeah!” she called back. She walked away, calling over her shoulder, “Go easy on him, Ichigo! Don’t break him!”  
“Of course I won’t!”  
Ichigo led Hiruma over to an empty corner of the dojo.   
Hiruma could see some of the other practitioner’s eyes following him, some looking respectful, others looking spiteful. So, they knew him, even here.  
“Start stretching.” Ichigo said, bringing Hiruma out of his observations, “The last thing you need is a pulled muscle before one of your games.”  
Hiruma didn’t say anything. He just started stretching. Ichigo had a point, after all, and if today’s workout was going to be as intense as a normal football practice, then he better stretch well.  
“So…” Ichigo said much too casually for Hiruma’s liking, “Guns, huh?”  
Hiruma didn’t pause in his stretches. Ichigo would have had to find out about the guns one way or another. At a game was one of the better options. Now, how to introduce him to the blackmail?  
“Yep.” Hiruma said simply.   
“I didn’t know they sold guns like that in Japan.”  
“They don’t.” Hiruma idly stretched his hamstrings.  
“Oh.” A pause. “So, how’d you get them?”  
“Smuggling and blackmail.”  
Silence. Ichigo didn’t say anything. It’d be a cold day in Hell before Hiruma would admit that that made him nervous.   
“How old are you?” Ichigo asked randomly.   
Hiruma blinked at him, getting up from stretching out his legs.  
“Seventeen. Why?”  
“You’re seventeen and you know how to smuggle things into the country?”  
Hiruma smirked.  
“Yep.”   
Ichigo huffed out a laugh and shook his head. He didn’t say anything else about it, but he didn’t go running for the hills either, so Hiruma took that as a good sign.   
Ichigo was just thinking about how surprising Hiruma was. He thought that Hiruma’s looks and tricks had been all there was to the surprise wrapped mystery that was Hiruma, but he’d been pleasantly wrong. Sure, smuggling and blackmail wasn’t exactly the best surprise to be hit with, but neither was being an otherworldly Shinigami, either. Not that Hiruma would ever find out about that. He cut off that train of thought before he could think about how a secret of that magnitude would affect a relationship.   
“Ok. I’m going to teach you the basics of self-defense for now.” Ichigo said. The two of them spent the next few hours teaching and learning, and correcting and being corrected. Hiruma picked it up quickly, just like Ichigo thought he would and by the end of the afternoon, Hiruma could remember all the stances. All that was left was to test them out in real life, but Ichigo very much hoped that he would never need to.   
“What do you do here?” Hiruma asked as they ran through some cool down exercises.   
Ichigo blinked, “What do you mean?”  
“That girl said you help her with kid’s classes, but some people here look at you like you’ve fought them before. And I’ve heard that your fighting is a mix of a bunch of styles, not just one like you’ve showed me. That’s unusual for a member of a dojo. Most people just stick with one style their whole lives.”  
“I’m not a member. I just help out here once in a while. And as for what I do here,” Ichigo finished his exercises and rubbed the back of his head, “The master of the dojo likes that the members get experience fighting someone who’s fought in real life and not just as training. In return, he goes through my sword forms with me and we spar sometimes. He’s pretty old, so he doesn’t have as much energy as he used to.” Ichigo said almost absently.  
“You know how to use a sword?” Hiruma asked surprised. That hadn’t been in the information his slaves had gathered.  
“Yeah. I’m pretty decent at it.” Ichigo was more that decent at it. He gave the master of the dojo a run for his money.   
“Show me.” Hiruma demanded.  
“W-what?”  
“Show me.” Hiruma crossed his arms. A challenging smirk adorned his face, “Unless you’re just lying to try to impress me.”  
Ichigo shot him a small scowl and motioned for Hiruma to follow him. He led him to a back room filled with kendo supplies. The room had protective gear around the edges and a few round containers full of bamboo swords. There some wooden swords on the wall and even fewer real sheathed ones hanging at the front of the room. Ichigo closed the sliding paper door behind Hiruma after he’d walked in and went and took one of the real swords from the front. Hiruma raised an eyebrow at that. He’d expected him to take a bamboo sword or maybe a wooden one, but not a real one.   
Ichigo drew the sword from its sheath with the sound of ringing metal, ridding Hiruma of any thoughts that it might be fake or dulled.   
“Stay there.” Ichigo told Hiruma, motioning to the edge of the room. Hiruma just nodded, watching silently as Ichigo got into his first stance with the sword in the middle of the room, the sheath lying forgotten in the front.   
Ichigo made the first swing smoothly, blade practically singing as it cut through the air to come to a sudden stop on the other side of him. He switched to another stance with ease, the next swing coming as naturally as breathing. One by one, Ichigo switched to each stance as easily as Hiruma threw a football. His sword sang and flashed in the light of the room. Hiruma nearly stopped breathing during each graceful arc, until Ichigo was on the side of the room closest to him, having run out of space to move forward. Ichigo turned around and started to move through the stances again until he was once again on the other side of the room. He did it again, even faster this time, and moved to Hiruma’s side. Ichigo stopped, suddenly, looking at Hiruma with a thoughtful look, sword held casually by his side.   
“Come here.” Ichigo motioned Hiruma forward with a wave of his hand.   
“Why?” Hiruma stayed where he was, tensing a bit.  
“Come on, I know every teenage boy has always wondered what it would be like to handle a real sword.”   
Still, Hiruma stayed where he was, staring at Ichigo with indecipherable eyes. Ichigo’s own eyes softened until they almost melted Hiruma’s cold black heart. Ichigo held out a hand towards Hiruma.   
“You’re safe with me.” Ichigo said softly. Trust me the outstretched hand said.   
Hiruma walked forward slowly, like that hand would be taken away any second, like those soft eyes would turn to scorn. He set his hand in Ichigo’s patiently waiting one and Ichigo drew him in gently. He turned him around until Hiruma’s back was facing Ichigo and he brought the sword in front of them both.   
“Place your hands where mine are.” Ichigo murmured.  
Hiruma did and Ichigo covered his hands on the hilt of the sword with his own, light enough not to strangle Hiruma’s hands, but firm enough that Hiruma definitely wasn’t handling the sword on his own. The steel blade was firm in Hiruma’s hands and heavier than he thought it would be. The hilt was thin and the covering was rough against his skin, not at all like the wideness of a football. Ichigo’s front against Hiruma’s back was hot. It burned into his skin through the thin workout shirts and Hiruma could feel a flush creeping up his neck at the firmness and heat and alive-ness of it. Hiruma hadn’t had another person this close to him since he was a child. Football didn’t count. Tackling was a part of the game and you couldn’t feel another person’s every breath through all of the padding.   
Ichigo slowly moved the two of them together, patiently going through each stance with Hiruma nestled in his arms. He guided their arms with the sword and nudged at Hiruma’s legs with his own to get him to move in the right steps. They inched their way across the room, Hiruma stretching muscles he never got to work in football and Ichigo moving through familiar motions slower than he ever had before. They came to stop at the other end of the room with Hiruma nearly trembling with that indescribable feeling one got when they were in close contact with the person they really liked, maybe even loved. Hiruma nearly shot out of Ichigo’s arms at that thought, but if he was honest with himself, he didn’t want to leave.   
Ichigo bowed his head the few inches it took to level his face next to Hiruma’s and just rested there, their cheeks only an inch away from each other. Hiruma could feel the heat of Ichigo’s breath near his face and when Ichigo turned his head, his nose brushed Hiruma’s cheek and every puff heated up his skin.   
Hiruma slowly, carefully turned his head to face Ichigo, not wanting to break the atmosphere that had inadvertently been created. For a moment, the two of them just gazed at each other, noses brushing and breathing each other’s air, bodies pressed together. The sword had long since been lowered, but their hands stayed clasped together. Ichigo moved forward a millimeter and Hiruma ducked his head a centimeter, eyes looking down uncharacteristically, unsure. He was much too far out of his comfort zone, but Ichigo wasn’t exactly in his either. Ichigo coaxed Hiruma’s eyes back to his, Hiruma practically looking up through his eyelashes.   
One of Ichigo’s hands left Hiruma’s on the sword hilt to lightly brush against Hiruma’s jaw and Hiruma was sure that his ears were burning and Ichigo didn’t care that they might make fools of themselves with their first kiss. It was as easy as he expected to lean in those last few centimeters to brush his lips against Hiruma’s. It was just a firm press of warm lips against warm lips, but they both felt a heat that neither had ever felt with anyone else before.   
When they parted, both were blushing and couldn’t quite meet the other’s eyes. Ichigo put the sword away and they left the dojo without being stopped by anyone. And if Ichigo happened to grab Hiruma’s hand on the way to the train station, Hiruma didn’t seem to mind.   
\-------------------------------  
Ichigo didn’t care that he looked like an idiot, smiling while Soi-Fon led him through the Second Division. Their first kiss was one of his favorite memories. It hadn’t been awkward or forced, it’d been a completely natural turn of events. That was more than some people could say for their first kiss. Though, Ichigo probably could have done without his friends throwing a fit when they found out he was dating someone the next day at school.  
\-------------------------------  
Ichigo and his group of friends were sitting on the rooftop during lunch the day after Ichigo had brought Hiruma to the dojo. Of course, Tatsuki had to bring it up.  
“Hey, Ichigo. Why are you training a random Shinigami in self-defense? I’ve never seen him before.”  
“Eh? Kurosaki-kun is training someone?” Orihime said.  
Ichigo looked cluelessly at Tatsuki.  
“You know, that guy with the pointy ears and teeth that you brought to the dojo yesterday.” Tatsuki said when he obviously didn’t know what she was talking about.   
“Oh, Hiruma? Hiruma isn’t a Shinigami.” Ichigo said, surprised.   
“He’s not?” Tatsuki furrowed her eyebrows, “Then, who is he? I’ve never seen him around school before and he’s pretty noticeable.”   
‘You have no idea.’ Ichigo thought as he took a sip of his juice.   
“Nah, he goes to a different school in Tokyo. We’re dating.” He idly took a bit of the bread Orihime had brought for everyone from her job.  
A second of silence ticked by, then two as Ichigo continued to nonchalantly eat his bread.   
“What?!” Everyone shouted.   
“You’re dating a guy?!” Keigo shouted what everyone was thinking.  
“Yep.” Ichigo said. He wasn’t going to let them make a big deal out of that.  
“And you didn’t tell us?” Tatsuki demanded. Mizuro, Chad, and Ishida sat surprised, but silently watching. Orihime sat silent and shocked.   
“It’s not really your business.” Ichigo said annoyed.  
“Can we get back to the fact that he’s dating a guy?!” Keigo said.  
“Friends share these types of things with friends!”  
“Well, I didn’t know how to bring it up! And it’s kind of a new development.”  
“Guys?!”  
“How long have you been dating him?”  
“About a month.”  
“Hello?!”  
“That’s not new!”  
“Um, I didn’t know you were gay, Kurosaki-kun.” Orihime said. Tatsuki and Ichigo stopped arguing to stare at her. “Not-not that there’s anything wrong with that!” she said, flustered.  
“I didn’t know you were gay, either.” Tatsuki said.  
“Me neither.” Said Chad quietly.  
“Finally, we’re addressing this!” shouted Keigo.  
“Well,” Ichigo said awkwardly, “I’m not. Gay, I mean. I don’t really care whether I date a boy or a girl as long as I like them.”  
“So you’re bi?” asked Tatsuki.  
“I-I guess? I don’t really care what it’s called.”  
“Still, I wonder what kind of person this Hiruma-san is to catch your attention, Kurosaki. It’s not like any of those girls who confessed to you held any of your interests.” Ishida said, pushing his glasses up his nose.   
“Hey, you don’t like any of the ones who confess to you either!”   
Ichigo’s friends stared at him expectantly and Ichigo rubbed the back of his neck, faintly blushing.  
“He’s just really…interesting, okay? And he’s got guts. He actually came up to me on the street to ask me out, even though I didn’t know him. Not a lot of people could do that.”  
“That’s true, I guess.” Tatsuki said, sipping at her drink, “But isn’t he kind of… weird looking?”  
“There’s nothing wrong with how he looks.” Ichigo said vehemently.  
Tatsuki raised her hands in a sign of surrender, “Okay.” She said doubtfully.  
Ichigo scowled at her.   
“What does he look like? Come on, show us a picture of him Ichigo. Show him off!” Keigo wheedled.  
Ichigo rubbed the back of his neck again as he flushed.  
“I don’t have a picture.” He said.  
“Eh? You don’t?”  
“Should I?”  
“Couples usually have pictures of each other as their phone screensavers so they can see each other when they’re not together.” Mizuro said. He showed everyone the picture of his current girlfriend on his own phone.  
“Really?” Ichigo said dubiously.  
“Of course.” Mizuro smiled.  
“That’s not really our style but,” Ichigo thought of having a picture of Hiruma for when they were apart, “I’ll have to get one next time.”  
\-------------------------  
Ichigo did get a picture of the two of them together on their next date, but Ichigo would have given up all the pictures of them together if he could stop what was happening now.


	2. Chapter 2

“Does everyone understand the plan?” asked the team leader of the Onmitsukido group Ichigo was with. He was out of his usual shinigami robes and dressed in the black, form-fitting Onmitsukido uniform that every single member wore. His black standard mask was held in his hand, like everyone else.   
Everyone nodded at the team leader. The plan was simple enough, but the real challenge was compensating for whatever moves the actual people around the grounds would make. People were unpredictable without a schedule to stick to.   
The group of six had gone over and over the plan again and again. They’d planned out the smallest details and went over every scenario they could think of. They made contingency plans for their contingency plans and every single plan ended with the successful extraction of the hostage. Failure wasn’t an option. Not with Kurosaki Ichigo there. He would take the hostage and run with his identity exposed if he had to, never mind that this was supposed to be a covert operation with no one the wiser of them going in and out of the extraction site.   
Should it be revealed that a team of the Onmitsukido was behind the loss of Central Forty-Six member, Raiko Yuusuke’s hostage; there would be hell to pay. Any part of the Gotei Thirteen moving against a member of Central Forty-Six would not be tolerated. The members of the team would be exposed and executed. Ichigo would be stripped of his hero status and also executed, no matter that he was still living in the human world. Any captain involved would be either stripped of their rank and thrown out of the Gotei Thirteen or, once again, executed and who knows what would happen to the hostage after all that.   
The members of the extraction team were all volunteers. No one was required to be there, but every single member there had seen Kurosaki Ichigo in action at some point, whether it was during the Winter War, or during some other conflict. The Onmitsukido saw everything. They lived in the shadows and made friends with the dark. They were everywhere in Soul Society, even if you couldn’t see them, and the areas where Kurosaki Ichigo did battle all those times were no exception. The Onmitsukido saw every single conflict Kurosaki Ichigo had fought for Soul Society through their different members. They saw every drop of blood sacrificed, every bead of sweat shed, every desperate swing and last hope power-up and emotion that flashed across his face. They saw his every loss and his exponential growth. They saw his every victory that saved Soul Society from destruction or another war. And they had grown very fond of him.   
So, every member of the small team to help Kurosaki Ichigo rescue someone close to him from their own absolute government had volunteered. Because they’d watched him grow. They’d watched him save their home from enemies that they could never take on themselves. He was their hero, even if he flushed and denied it every time someone called him that. They owed him at least this.   
Ichigo himself was still thinking about the one memory than started this whole thing, unaware of the rest of the team’s thoughts.   
\-----------------------  
Ichigo ran as fast as he could through Karakura, dodging around people and obstacles like telephone poles and newspaper boxes as he went. He had to get there. He had to make it. He ran faster than most humans could, as fast as Eyeshield Twenty-one, maybe even faster. He finally reached his destination ten minutes later only to despair when he saw that he didn’t make it.  
Hiruma was waiting at the train station with his arms crossed in front of him.  
“You’re late.” He scowled.  
“I know.” Ichigo panted, “I’m sorry. My stupid dad held me up with his stupid surprise attacks. He’s been bombarding me with them all morning and I don’t know why.”  
Hiruma raised an eyebrow, “Surprise attacks?”  
Ichigo rubbed the back of his neck as they started walking away from the station.   
“Yeah, my dad is weird. He’ll ‘attack’ me with martial arts moves to hone my reflexes. It’s one of the reasons why I’m so good at fighting. Sometimes they’re not even martial arts moves; he’ll just try to tackle me.”  
Hiruma snorted, then got a considering look on his face.   
“Don’t.” Ichigo warned.  
“What?”   
“Leave your poor team alone. They already have enough on their plate with your crazy training without you surprise tackling them. Besides, my reflexes were honed over years of surprise attacks. You only have a few months left until the Christmas Bowl, right?”  
“Yeah.” Hiruma grumbled.  
Ichigo chuckled, “Though, it would be funny to see their faces.”  
Hiruma smirked evilly, “I might have to do it anyway just for that. And it wouldn’t hurt to get them more used to being tackled, even at unexpected moments.”  
“I guess so.” Ichigo laughed.  
“So, what are we doing today?”  
“I thought I’d show you around town and maybe we could go see a movie later in the afternoon. The newest action flick is out.”  
Hiruma grunted and Ichigo took that to mean that the plan was fine. He didn’t sound put off or anything like that.  
The first thing Ichigo did was take Hiruma to a few shops. They went to the more well-known ones that held things teenage boys would be interested in, like manga and the arcade. Hiruma dragged Ichigo into a lot of temporary Halloween shops whenever they saw one, since October was almost there. Hiruma used the chance to stock up on special effects make-up and fake blood.   
“You really like Halloween, huh?” Ichigo smiled at Hiruma as he looked through the costumes. It was only them and the clerk in the store this early in the holiday season.  
“Of course.” Said Hiruma. He pulled another costume off the rack to look and smiled toothily when he saw the realistic wolf-man costume. He draped it over his arm and continued looking.   
“Why?” Ichigo asked after a few more minutes had passed with Hiruma still looking at costumes.  
Hiruma scoffed, “When you look like me, a holiday where everyone else tries to look like a freak is a welcome change.”  
Ichigo stayed quiet. Is that how Hiruma thought of himself? As a freak? He’d never given any indication that he didn’t like how he looked before.  
“There’s nothing wrong with how you look.” Ichigo said quietly.  
“You’d be the first to think so.” Hiruma said carelessly.  
“Hiruma.” Ichigo dropped the bags he’d been holding for Hiruma and grabbed his shoulders, then paused, “No, Yoichi,” Ichigo looked seriously into Hiruma’s eyes, “There is nothing wrong with the way you look.”  
Hiruma stared back at him incomprehensibly, like Ichigo had just spoken in a language he didn’t understand.   
“W-who gave you permission to use my given name, bastard?” Hiruma eventually choked out. He wasn’t taking Ichigo seriously. Ichigo sighed in frustration, letting go of Hiruma to run a hand through his hair.   
“Seriously, Yoichi, there’s nothing wrong with the way you look.”  
“Just drop it, Ichigo.”   
“No. Not until you believe me.”  
Hiruma turned back to the costumes, “Well, I’m never going to believe you, so just drop it.”  
“Why won’t you believe me?” Ichigo asked a little helplessly. He wasn’t used to the feeling.  
Hiruma seemed to snap a little at that.   
“Do you just wanna know why I look like this?” He asked sharply, “Because that’s all other people want to seem to know about me. I look like this because I’m some god’s joke. I didn’t get plastic surgery or file my teeth sharp because I wanted to look scary. I was born like this and no one knows why.” Hiruma wasn’t looking at Ichigo. “You’ve satisfied your curiosity now, so you can leave and stop pretending.” Hiruma turned away from Ichigo; acting like he wasn’t bothered by anything in the world, but Ichigo could see the hurt in the line of his shoulders. It almost looked like he was nursing an actual wound.  
“Come on.” Ichigo said, grabbing Hiruma’s hand. He led him from the back of the store where the costumes were, away from the bored clerk’s prying ears.   
“Hey! Let go of me! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”   
“Taking you to a park.”  
“Fuck you and your park!”  
Ichigo swiftly turned around and Hiruma flinched the tiniest bit, remember Ichigo’s violent reputation. Ichigo ignored the flinch. He knew that he would never hurt Hiruma. He gripped him lightly by the shoulders.  
“We need to talk and a store isn’t the place for our first argument.”  
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Hiruma scowled as Ichigo resumed dragging him to the park two minutes away.  
“Yes there is.”  
Hiruma dragged his feet the whole way to the park, but eventually just gave in and went with it.  
“Now, what the fuck did you want to talk about?” he asked when they finally stopped in a grassy clearing with trees all around. It was private, but they could still hear cars driving and people walking and all the sounds that came with a city.  
Ichigo pulled out his wallet and handed Hiruma a photo from it. It was of a smiling man and woman with three little kids, one of which had bright orange hair.  
“That’s my family back when my mom was still alive.” Ichigo said before Hiruma could say anything.  
“So?” Hiruma asked.  
“Look at my parents. Neither of them have orange hair, right?”   
Hiruma looked at him, “So?” he asked again.  
“So, Yuzu has Mom’s coloring and Karin has Dad’s. I’m the only one who has freakishly bright orange hair. I used to think I was god’s joke.”  
Hiruma stayed silent, gazing at the picture.   
“I know how it feels to have people judge you by how you look. You tell yourself you don’t care, but it’s really hard not to when everyone is doing it. But some stuff happened and what I looked like became less and less important.”  
Ichigo scratched the back of head, trying to figure out what he was saying. He didn’t have a clear plan about what he was going to say. He never planned anything out.  
“Yoichi, I-I think you’re really good looking.” He said blushing, “I don’t care that you have pointed ears and teeth. I’ve seen weirder looking. And you don’t look weird to me. You just look nice. You’re not a freak to me. You’re just normal and if you still don’t believe me, then take comfort in the fact that I’m a freak too. Just ask my classmates.”  
Hiruma stared at him for a few minutes, just enough time to make Ichigo uncomfortable, before he snorted.   
“If that’s your idea of a pep talk, it sucks.”  
Ichigo was blushing now, “S-shut up. I’m just telling you the truth.”  
Hiruma cackled at his blush, seemingly back to normal. Ichigo smiled at him, the redness of his face slowly fading. The almost insecureness Hiruma had had around him hadn’t suited him at all. Hiruma was the most vibrant when he was mischievous and smiling. It was strange and wrong to see him without a devious and calculating glint in his eye. Ichigo held his hand out to Hiruma like he had at the dojo, when he had asked Hiruma to trust him.  
“Are you hungry? Let’s go get something to eat.” He said, “I know a place.”  
“It’s not that stupid cowboy restaurant again, is it?” Hiruma snorted.  
Ichigo playfully scowled at him, “It’s not stupid.”   
Then he suddenly remembered the conversation he had the other day with his friends on the school roof. He took out his phone and aimed the camera at Hiruma.   
“Can I get a picture of you?”  
“Why?” Ichigo watched the Hiruma on the screen say.   
“So I can put it as my phone’s wallpaper.”   
“That’s stupid.”  
“It is not. Now smile.”  
Hiruma actually did as he was told and grinned a devilishly handsome smile at the camera. Ichigo snapped the picture a mere second before the blaring Hollow alert went off on his phone. Both of them startled at the grating sound.  
“What the fuck is that?” Hiruma almost had to yell over the sound and Ichigo hastily turned the volume down.  
“It-it’s uh,” Ichigo wracked his mind for an excuse to tell him while he looked over his phone. The Hollow was only two blocks away, much too close to Hiruma for his comfort.  
“It’s work.” Ichigo finally settled on a half-truth, hoping it wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass. “They need me to do something real quick.”  
“Well then, let’s go.” Hiruma shoved his hands in his jacket pockets.  
“No! No, I’ll go really quick and meet you back here. It will only take a minute, so stay here.” Ichigo said quickly, “I’ll be right back!”   
Ichigo ran off before Hiruma could say anything.  
“Hey!” Hiruma yelled after him. He stayed where he was though and Ichigo really hoped he didn’t think he’d just ditched him. The Hollow couldn’t have come at a worse time.  
\--------------------  
Ichigo frowned. That Hollow had been the start of all this.  
\-------------------  
Ichigo skidded to a stop in front of an old, rundown house. The yard was overgrown with years of weeds, the paint on the outside of the house was peeling, the sidewalk was cracked, and the windows were so dirty that Ichigo couldn’t even see a glimpse of what was inside. He checked his phone again. The Hollow was in there.   
He climbed the old creaky steps and tried the doorknob. The door sadly swung inward at his touch, the lock long broken.   
Ichigo stepped in, not at all cautious. A simple Hollow was nothing compared to the Arrancar of the Winter War.   
‘I better make this quick.’ Ichigo thought. He flared his reitsu, a sure-fire way to get a Hollow’s attention. There was nothing for a moment, then he heard skittering coming from right above him on the second floor.   
‘Gotcha.’ Ichigo left his body next to the stairs and shunpoed upstairs, checking each room as he went by. He finally came to the one in the front of the house, the one right above the door. He gripped his sword, fully prepared and pushed open the stained, creaky door.   
The walls were stained with water damage, the old fashioned flower wallpaper was yellow and peeling with age, and the floor was covered in dust and rat droppings which lay undisturbed. Nothing had been in this room for a while.   
Ichigo scratched his head. He was sure he’d heard something while downstairs.   
Dust rained down on his head and he heard the skittering again. In the second it took for him to glance up, he thought that maybe the house had an attic and the Hollow was in there, but when his gaze hit the ceiling, that thought flew from his mind.   
The creature he saw on the ceiling was definitely not a Hollow. Its skin was grotesquely blue and black with open sores all over it. It had clawed hands and feet, and limbs that were more like a human’s than a Hollow’s. It stood on all fours attached to the ceiling like a spider and the skin of its face was twisted into a swirl, like it was made of taffy. Its beady black eyes, elongated and curved from its face’s deformity, stared at him with no sign of intelligence or recognition.   
Ichigo was not one to be shaken easily, with some of the things he’d seen in war, but this thing was something straight out of a horror movie, only it was real. It was there and standing right above him and it wasn’t a movie prop.   
Ichigo gripped his sword tighter, not able to look away from the thing until it moved. It chittered and skittered back down the hallway on all fours, not running, but not sticking around to study the interesting thing it’d found, either. Ichigo snapped out of his horrified trance and ran after it. He wasn’t going to just leave that thing to do whatever it pleased. The house was a popular place for kids to dare each other to go into. There was no way he was going to leave the deformed spirit there. Ichigo chased it down the hall and into the room at the very back of the house, where he found it digging into a corner of the ceiling and wall.   
‘What the hell is it doing?’ Ichigo watched it dig for a minute before he shouted.  
“Hey!”   
The creature paused and turned it head all the way around, its neck twisting like a possessed person in a horror movie. It chittered and Ichigo had to stop a shudder from going down his spine. He drew his sword and still the creature didn’t move. It flexed its claws like it wanted to start digging again, but it just stared at him with those twisted eyes. Ichigo took a step towards it, then another, before it finally moved. It turned the rest of its body around, still on hands and feet and tilted its head at Ichigo. Ichigo had the disturbing thought that it might’ve been like a puppy if the puppy had a spider’s body and legs, and rabies. He raised his sword in a battle stance and it lunged at him.   
It let out an inhuman, high pitched shriek when Ichigo speared it on his long sword, its torso wide open and it had no defense to speak of. It flailed around squealing and shrieking on his sword as it clawed at it and him. It managed to reach Ichigo’s hands and lower arms and Ichigo threw it off his sword to keep all his fingers intact. Those claws were sharp. Blood ran off his arms in rivulets and the thing was still shrieking on the ground, splashing around in the black blood coming from the hole in its chest.   
Ichigo stabbed it again, this time in the heart, or where the heart should have been and still, it squealing and screamed. Ichigo finally stabbed it in the head; right in its twisted face like he would have had it been a Hollow and it finally went silent. It stopped thrashing. It stopped squealing. It just lay there, dead. It didn’t disappear like a hollow should have, like any spirit should have.   
Ichigo stared at it for a minute, a little bit in shock and at a loss at what to do, when the corpse started bubbling and steaming. It disappeared at a much much slower rate than a normal spirit, but at the end, nothing of it was left, not even the black blood.   
Ichigo looked blankly at where the corpse had been, then at where it had been digging in the corner of the wall and ceiling. He absently walked downstairs and got back into his body, hissing a little in pain as the wounds on his arms were transferred from his spirit form to his human form. He managed to get back to the park in a daze, not really registering where he was going or who he passed and suddenly, Yoichi was there. That’s the only thing Ichigo really register, that Yoichi was there and he had his hands on Ichigo’s arms and a kind of concerned look on his face, well, concerned for Yoichi. It looked like he was talking and sound suddenly came rushing back to him.   
“-chigo? Ichigo!”  
Ichigo blinked.   
“Huh?” he said intelligently.   
Hiruma frowned at him, “Are you okay? You look pale.”  
Ichigo stared at him for a minute then pulled him into a crushing hug. Hiruma hesitantly wrapped his arms around Ichigo as he shivered, the screams and squeals of the deformed spirit still echoing in his ears.  
“I’m fine.” Ichigo murmured, “I’m okay.” He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince himself or Hiruma.   
“You’re bleeding.” Hiruma said.   
Ichigo pulled back, “Huh?”  
Hiruma pulled Ichigo’s arms off of him and pushed up the sleeves of his jacket to reveal the cuts on his wrists and arms.  
“Fuck.” He cursed, “You need to go to a hospital. These need stitches.”  
Ichigo came back to himself a little, “Oh. No.” He took his jacket off, bloodies sleeves sticking to his wounds a little and wrapped it around his arms. “I’ll just go to my house. The family clinic is attached to it. My dad can fix me up.”  
He started walking and Hiruma scrambled after him.   
“What the fuck happened?” he asked, “Your arms look like you went up against a bear or something.”  
Ichigo was too out of it to think of a decent excuse, “Just- just work.”  
“Work? What the fuck do you do?”  
“I-uh. It’s-.” His brain still wasn’t working right, “It’s a secret.” He finished. It was the best he could do at the moment.   
“A secret.” Hiruma deadpanned, “Are you shitting me? You come back with your arms looking like mincemeat and you just say it’s a fucking secret?!”  
“Yep.”  
Hiruma growled and Ichigo chuckled at how human it sounded. They walked the rest of the way to Ichigo’s house with Hiruma fuming and not talking to Ichigo and Ichigo trying to get his head back on right. They arrived at the Kurosaki Clinic to dark windows and the clinic van gone from the driveway. His father and sisters must be out.   
Ichigo wordlessly unlocked the front doors to the clinic and led Hiruma to one of the back waiting rooms. Hiruma was still scowling at him as he opened a few drawers to get a medical needle and thread out. Ichigo washed the blood off his arms in the sink, threaded the needle and laid one of his arms out on the medical table. Hiruma’s scowl faded. Just as Ichigo was about to pierce two flaps of skin with the needle to make the first stitch, Hiruma shouted.  
“Whoah, whoah, whoah! Wait! You’re just going to sew yourself up?!”  
Ichigo stared at him, “Yeah.”  
“Are you crazy?! You didn’t even inject any anesthetic! You need to go to a real hospital!”  
“Yoichi, it’s okay.” Ichigo made to make the first stitch again, but Hiruma grabbed his wrist, careful of the open wound on it.  
“No, it’s not! You need to go to a hospital!”  
Ichigo gently pushed Hiruma’s hand away. “Yoichi, it’s okay.” He repeated, “I’ve done this before.”  
“You…You’ve done this before?” Hiruma said disbelievingly. Ichigo nodded and finally made the first stitch, not even wincing as the dragged the needle and thread through his skin. The shock of watching the deformed spirit die so horribly had faded and Ichigo thought about what to tell Hiruma and how to salvage the situation.   
Obviously, he couldn’t tell him about his world, the world with Shinigami, and monsters, and spirits. He’d never believe him and would probably break up with him in a flash, or tell someone who could get him thrown into a mental hospital. What if he told him a half-truth? The part of the truth that a human could understand.   
“My job is to fight…” Ichigo started hesitantly as he made another stitch. Hiruma’s green eyes shot from watching Ichigo work on his arm to his face as he talked.   
“Me and some other people work to stop the… explosions here in Karakura.”  
Karakura town was plagued with mysterious explosion and deaths, growing in frequency until one day all contact was lost with Karakura. For ten straight hours, no calls, no radio transmissions, and no transport was successfully sent or received. It made national news and when contact was re-established, the townspeople hadn’t even noticed anything was wrong. Every single person that was interviewed by an official had lost ten hours and every clock had been set ten hours back. There still weren’t any answers for what had happened and the explosions continued, though with much less frequency and death. The only reason the Japanese government hadn’t declared the explosions terrorist attacks was because there was no sign of any explosive device or agent whatsoever.   
Hiruma had noticed something very interesting while researching Kurosaki’s disappearances. In the weeks leading up to Karakura’s ten hour blackout, Kurosaki had disappeared more and more often until he was gone from the day before the blackout to almost a month after. Then, the disappearances stopped completely. He went to school normally and his grades went back up. A few months ago, he’d started running out of class again and Hiruma still couldn’t figure out what he did. His slaves couldn’t keep up with him and Hiruma always lost him on the traffic cameras.  
Of course, Hiruma didn’t mention any of this to Ichigo.   
“So, your ‘job’ is…being a vigilante?” Hiruma asked.  
Ichigo sputtered, “W-what?! No! We just-“  
“Take the law into your own hands because you think law enforcement is inadequate?”  
Ichigo opened and closed his mouth wordlessly, his arm forgotten.   
“That’s the definition of vigilante.”   
Ichigo shut his mouth with a click of teeth and went back to sewing up his arm.  
“So, what are you going to do?” Ichigo asked.   
“I’m not going to turn you in, if that’s what you mean.”  
Ichigo looked at him out of the corner of his eye in surprise.  
“Really?”  
“Of course not. I mean, my boyfriend is a vigilante. How fucking awesome is that?”  
Ichigo colored and doubled his concentration at sewing his wounds up. Hiruma smirked at his blush and leaned forwards so he was in Ichigo’s space.  
“And honestly,” Hiruma whispered, so close that Ichigo could feel his breath on his face, “It’s kind of hot.”  
Ichigo set the needle down beside his arm, still attached to it with thread, and looked up at Hiruma seriously. Hiruma dropped his smirk, taken off guard by the look. Slowly, Ichigo stood and brought up his arm not yet sewn up to Hiruma’s face. Hiruma flinched a little at having something so close to his face, but Ichigo just cupped his cheek and Hiruma looked at him with wide, surprised eyes. Ichigo slid his hand to Hiruma’s jaw, fingers cupping part of his neck under his ear. Hiruma’s heart beat faster and Ichigo was concentrated on just Hiruma, gazing at his lips. Ichigo could feel Hiruma’s pulse jumping through the hand on his neck and Ichigo slowly leaned forward, giving him a chance to pull away. Hiruma was the one who moved the last few centimeters between their lips, when Ichigo got close enough.   
They stayed that way for a moment, lips pressing against lips, until one of them opened their mouth, giving access. Neither took it, but the other one opened his mouth too. They moved a little, sliding their lips together, their tongues still lying dormant in their own mouths. They breathed through their noses, not wanting to part. Ichigo brought up his other arm, with the needle and thread still attached to it, and cupped the side of Hiruma’s face, thumb gently brushing underneath his eye. Ichigo deliberately brushed Hiruma’s ear with the other thumb and Hiruma let out a breathy moan into Ichigo’s mouth. That seemed to break the spell that had washed over them. Hiruma pulled back quickly, face red, and hands coming up to cover his ears. He almost let out another moan as Ichigo brushed his ear again while taking his hands off of him, but bit his lip to stifle it.   
“Sorry.” Ichigo said, “I didn’t realize… Did I go too far?”  
Hiruma dropped his hands from his ears and cleared his throat, “Little bit.” he muttered, trying to get his composure back.   
“Sorry.” Ichigo said again. He made to rub the back of his head sheepishly, only to almost stab himself in the face with the needle still hanging from his arm.   
Hiruma looked at it in surprise, like he’d forgotten it was even there. Then, his eyes widened, catching sight of Ichigo’s arms again. Some of the wounds had started bleeding again and the blood dripped off his arm and onto the stark white covering of the medical table.   
“Oi, finish fucking fixing yourself before you start trying to make out with me!”  
Ichigo smiled cheekily at him and grabbed the needle to finish up the cut he was working on, “Does that mean I can make out with you any other time?”  
Hiruma blushed and lightly smacked him on the back of the head.   
\-----------------------  
That hollow and Ichigo’s injuries and lie had been Hiruma’s introduction to this world, though he hadn’t know it. Ichigo smiled underneath the black cloth mask at the memory of their kiss, though. Even with all that was happening now, Ichigo couldn’t bring himself to regret lying to Hiruma. It had been to keep himself and Hiruma safe. Hiruma from the unknown world, Ichigo from the human world.   
Ichigo and the Onmitsukido group were outside now, masks on and ready to go. The leader gazed around at them all, lingering on Ichigo’s form.   
“Let’s go.” He said quietly. Every person in the dark and silent courtyard shunpoed out, leaving not even a trace behind.   
\-----------------------  
“The day has finally come!” The announcer blared, “The nationwide high school American football Tokyo Tournament semi-finals! With the right to enter the Kantou Tournament on the line, two similarly hyper offensive type teams are now preparing to collide! Tokyo’s strongest Seibu Wild Gunmen vs the Deimon Devilbats!”  
The crowd cheered, waving around plastic bat wings and plastic guns. Ichigo smiled at the enthusiasm around him and watched the coin flip from his place in the stands. Hiruma stood sassily across from the other team captain.   
“The game will start with Deimon’s kickoff and Seibu’s offensive!” called the referee.  
Ichigo cheered with the rest of the crowd as Hiruma kicked the ball as hard as he could across the green field and the entirety of the Deimon Devilbats charged across the grass.  
:-:-:-  
‘He’s pretty fast for a human.’ Ichigo thought watching Seibu’s twenty-nine. He watched as Hiruma blocked one of Seibu’s players and smiled even though, twenty-nine was still running with the ball. Ichigo’s smile turned to a frown when Seibu scored a touchdown within a mere few seconds of the game starting. But Hiruma didn’t look pissed off or anything. In fact, he smiled a shark-toothed grin at Eyeshield 21.  
:-:-:-  
Ichigo chuckled, watching Eyeshield 21 run was still something Ichigo was getting used to. He was used to watching shunpo, not actual running like this. Seibu’s fastest player, number twenty-nine chased after Eyeshield 21, but the gap didn’t close before he made a touchdown for the Devilbats.  
:-:-:-  
Hiruma stood grinning devilishly at Kid as the referees measured the distance the ball was thrown and Ichigo felt a surge, a very small one, of minor jealousy shoot through him. Then, he caught himself and that feeling. He was acting as if Kid could steal Hiruma away from him and Ichigo scoffed at himself.   
‘They’re just friendly rivals,’ Ichigo told himself, ‘in a game played by high school kids. There’s nothing there.’  
But since when was Hiruma friendly with anyone but Ichigo?  
‘Yoichi must really think highly of him if he’s treating him like an equal.’  
Hiruma held out his hand to Kid and Ichigo felt another small surge go through him, only for it to fade when a deck of cards appeared in Hiruma’s hand from seemingly nowhere, surprising Kid. Hiruma said something to Kid then tossed the cards over his shoulder. Then Kid, said something to Hiruma that Ichigo couldn’t hear all the way from the stands and Hiruma’s gaze changed instantly. It went from playful devilry to seriously calculating with something not sad, but cold behind it. That look on Hiruma’s face and the fact that Kid had put there made Ichigo want to smash Kid’s face in. Hiruma should never have that look on his face if Ichigo had anything to say about it.  
:-:-:-  
“Concentrate on one spot!” Deimon’s coach yelled.  
“Remember yesterday’s arcade!” The manager yelled.  
‘Oh, Hiruma told me about that.’ Ichigo and Hiruma often texted each other since they lived so far away from each other. Hiruma had told Ichigo about their trip to the arcade and practicing their bump. It had been practice well done if the result down on the field was anything to go by.  
:-:-:-  
The next play was Deimon’s defense. Seibu almost broke through their line, but Deimon held strong and completely blocked them, protecting Hiruma and letting him throw the ball. Hiruma threw a beautiful pass that was caught by Monta, surprising Seibu again. Hiruma gleefully kicked all his linemen in the ass in congratulations. Seibu’s number ninety-four said something to Deimon as a whole, but they completely ignored him, getting in position again.   
Ichigo laughed at Hiruma’s typical demeanor and that his team followed him in it. Hiruma really wouldn’t listen to anyone unless he deemed that someone worth his time.  
Seibu’s number ninety-four pulled a move that Ichigo overheard someone in the audience call a pro wrestling technique. To Ichigo, it just looked like a clothesline move to the ribs. Then, number ninety-four elbowed Deimon’s number fifty-one, knocking him backwards. Seibu’s ninety-four then ran past Deimon’s line, tackling Hiruma before he could throw the ball. Hiruma looked livid and Ichigo scowled deeply. That player could have hurt Hiruma badly. Ichigo knew that football was not a gentle or safe sport and that it also wasn’t as dangerous as the battles Ichigo himself had participated in, but he also knew that if a player landed just a little bit wrong, it could lead to an injury that would affect them forever. So, Ichigo scowled and glared because that’s all he could do. Hiruma would never allow him to interfere.  
:-:-:-  
In the next play, Seibu’s fifteen completely bowled over Deimon’s eighty and Hiruma charged through the line, making for Seibu’s quarterback, Kid.   
“Wow! Hiruma! He charged towards Kid yet again!” The announcer exclaimed. Kid saw the opening left behind by Hiruma moving and successfully passed the ball to another player.   
“Now two players are blitzing!” The announcer said during the next play. Once again, Kid passed successfully. Hiruma’s body language was almost… frantic, Ichigo noticed. He was too far away to see his expression, but he could see his tense frame beneath all the football padding and the way Deimon’s giant player was trying to calm him down.  
And again, Deimon’s players blitzed Kid.  
“Hiruma’s suddenly acting nearly suicidal…” Ichigo heard from below him in the stands, “The only conclusion is that he’s lost his cool for some reason!”  
Ichigo frowned in contemplation at that, missing what the rest of them said. Hiruma wasn’t really one to lose his composure like that. That was one of the things Ichigo liked about him. He didn’t react to those that tried to get a reaction out of him. He didn’t let people manipulate his emotions, even if they weren’t actively trying to.   
“I’ve got it!” the same guy with the glasses in the stands said, “Hiruma’s plan is incredible…! The first blitz failure, pressuring Kid into raising the speed of his quick draw, appearing to be surprised by that…”  
“It was all preparation. All for this one trap!” finished a serious looking black haired kid next to the glasses one.   
Ichigo just smiled.   
:-:-:-  
“Hiruma Yoichi is not a player who has any superhuman physical abilities.” Said the same dark haired teen from before, “He’s a man who’s come this far through sheer practice and the power of his brain.”  
“Just now, in this stadium, Hiruma was the only one who responded to Kid’s sudden charge, but even that was too slow.” Said glasses.  
“Touch down!” the announcer blared as Hiruma barely missed the other quarterback as he passed the goal line.   
‘Hiruma would never panic after losing against an opponent.’ Ichigo thought, ‘He’s just calmly and quietly accepting that nothing will work against Kid.’  
Ichigo clenched his fists at that thought. Everyone he knew, from his idiot of a father, to his most capable friends, would never just give up against someone like Hiruma just had. They would keep trying and trying until they won or died.   
‘This isn’t the same.’ Ichigo reminded himself, ‘This isn’t life or death. This is a game.’ Ichigo almost felt ashamed to think of football as just a game when Hiruma had shown so much passion for it.  
:-:-:-  
“Alright, the Deimon Devilbats! This is their last play of the first half!”  
Suddenly, a truck screeched onto the field and Ichigo could see Hiruma’s surprise from the stands as someone got out and walked towards Deimon.   
The Devilbats lined up for a kick, with Hiruma holding the ball. Deimon’s new number eleven kicked hard and the ball went into the goal, surprising everyone.   
“The Deimon Devilbats with the appearance of a mystery kicker, they’ve followed up by three points!” The announcer said.  
Bang! Hiruma shot something out of his biggest player’s hand, then casually turned his gun onto the stands, shooting like it was nothing. The girl always on the bench, the manager Ichigo thought, carefully stopped Hiruma’s gun with one shaking hand and Ichigo felt more jealousy surge through him. Hiruma was actually letting her stop him. Ichigo stamped it down again and his hollow cackled at him in the back of his head.   
:-:-:-  
In the next play, once again Eyeshield charged through the center, gaining very few yards. Ichigo could hear the audience complaining about the slow gains, but Ichigo knew that sometimes gaining slowly was a good thing. He could also see that with number eleven’s return, Hiruma’s body language had relaxed and was actually…happy. That little surge of jealously returned and Ichigo idly wondered who Eleven was to Hiruma.   
Over and over again, Deimon pushed through the center using their biggest player and their fastest until they’d gained the first down. Then, Eyeshield went in for a Devilbat Dive, only to slow down at the last second and reveal to Seibu that he wasn’t holding the ball. Hiruma still had it. He threw a super long pass to number eighty. The ball spun through the line, hands reaching out to stop it, but bypassing every one. Eighty caught the ball perfectly, not even fazed by Seibu’s fastest player coming after him. He caught the ball in a slide, scoring Deimon a touchdown.   
“Th-this is! Such pinpoint accuracy! Just like a laser! A spartan pass that tests the limits of the receiver!” said the Announcer, “This is indeed Hiruma’s style. Devil Laser Bullet!”  
Ichigo cheered with the rest of the crowd. That pass had been amazing. A pass thrown like that by one of Ichigo’s friends could probably actually do some damage to someone.   
:-:-:-  
The teams lined up again for Deimon’s kickoff. The ball shot high into the air, higher than anyone could see, when number eleven kicked it. Some people in the audience shielded their eyes against the bright sun, trying to keep track of it as it arched back down. Ichigo only had eyes for Hiruma. He watched as his face twisted behind the shadow of his helmet into the most demonic expression Ichigo had ever seen on a human. Still, it didn’t compare to Hollow masks or even an Espada’s expression. Honestly, Ichigo thought Hiruma’s attempts at being scary were adorable.   
:-:-:-  
“Tokyo’s greatest super-offensive battle: three minutes remaining!” The announcer blared.   
Ichigo frowned down at Seibu’s players who were just standing around wasting what little time Deimon had left to catch up. They were choosing the easiest route instead of fighting fairly against Deimon.   
Ichigo chuckled when the smallest, youngest cheerleader started firing one of Hiruma’s guns and yelling at the other team’s coach, making him jump. That must be Suzuna.   
:-:-:-  
“Match Over! National inter-high tournament, Tokyo qualification tournament, Deimon Devil Bats lose in the semi-finals!”  
Ichigo groaned, sitting back in his seat. Hiruma’s team lost. Hiruma hated losing. He couldn’t stand it and Ichigo couldn’t stand seeing that disappointed look on Hiruma’s face that he tried to hide.   
Ichigo got up and started walking with the rest of the crowd out of the stands when there was suddenly a commotion down on the field. Deimon’s eighty was desperately arguing with the referee about his call. Ichigo watched as Hiruma and Deimon’s number eleven ran over to the two as fast as they could, but Seibu’s fifteen got there first and knee tackled eighty. Ichigo frowned in confusion and stood on the sidelines of the field as the Devil bats talked among themselves. Hiruma got a deep frown on his face as he was talking and whipped out one of his bigger gun out of nowhere to start shooting at number eighty. Ichigo stifled a laugh when several other players had to get out of the way or be mowed down by rubber bullets. Hiruma wasn’t caring who he hit in his anger with one player.   
The two teams lined up in the middle of the field and Ichigo watched as all of them, except Hiruma, bowed to each other. When they turned away from each other, Ichigo could tell that Hiruma wasn’t yet ready for Ichigo to meet his team. He was so concentrated on the next match between Ojou and Bando. He didn’t need any distractions while gathering intel on the ‘enemy’, so Ichigo left and took a train home.  
It didn’t bother Ichigo, especially since Hiruma told him all about the match over texting later that night.  
\---------------------  
The wind would have been rushing through Ichigo’s hair, had he not been wearing mask that completely covered his head. Ichigo would have been enjoying the run, not many people could keep up with him while going at nearly full speed, had it not been for that fact that Hiruma was in the hands of someone Ichigo now considered his enemy.   
The small group shunpoed from rooftop to rooftop under the cover of darkness, avoiding lighted and busy places, keeping to the shadows of candle-lit lanterns are they made their way towards the secret mansion of Raiko Yuusuke. If their intel was correct, and the Onmitsukido’s always was, Hiruma was in the very center of that mansion. He was well guarded, and limited human contact was made with him. Only a handful of servants were even aware that he was there. Apparently, he was being taken care of, but Ichigo burned with fury when he thought about what Raiko could, might, do to him.   
If even a hair on Hiruma head was out of place, if even one nail was cracked, Ichigo would rain fury down on that place and storm Soul Society to find the man who took Hiruma from him in the first place.   
\---------------------  
“What are we doing here?” Ichigo laughed. He looked around the abandoned American military base curiously, wondering why Hiruma had brought him there.   
“Since you showed me your weapons,” Hiruma popped his gum, “I’m gonna show you mine.”  
Hiruma dropped a duffel bag full of firepower onto the concrete floor and pointed to the targets he had hung from the ceiling.   
Ichigo put his hands up, “I’m more of a blade kind of guy.” He protested weakly.   
He knew it wouldn’t do any good though. Once Hiruma got something into his mind, he wouldn’t let go of it. True to Ichigo’s thoughts, Hiruma proceeded to show him how to load and cock a handgun without shooting himself in the foot. Although Hiruma always used rubber bullets as ammo, shooting himself in the foot would still hurt like a bitch.   
“…then just pull the trigger.” Hiruma finished his explanation, “We’ll start small since you’ve never fired a gun before.”   
“I’ve never even held one before.” Chuckled Ichigo.   
Hiruma scoffed at that.  
“Like most people in Japan.” Ichigo added.   
Hiruma grumbled his assent, then handed over safety glass and gun range ear muffs, and then the handgun to Ichigo. Ichigo put the safety equipment on and held the gun gingerly in his hands, leaving the muzzle pointed towards the ground as instructed. It was heavier than he expected, and he reminded himself that even though Hiruma used rubber bullets, he still used real guns.   
“Hold it tighter.” Hiruma instructed, “It’s not going to be any safer if it slips out of your fucking grip and goes off.”  
Ichigo held it tighter, as told, and kept his trigger finger on the side of the gun until Hiruma told him otherwise. Hiruma turned Ichigo towards the target hanging from the ceiling and fixed his stance so he wouldn’t fall over when he fired the gun. Hiruma put on his own safety equipment and stood behind Ichigo like Ichigo had when he’d showed Hiruma what it was like to use a sword. Hiruma had no qualms about pressing his body flush against Ichigo’s back as he pointed to the sight.   
“Line up those two pieces of metal. That’s how you aim.” He said.  
Ichigo had suddenly lost his voice due to the warmth now pressed against his back and just nodded. He could feel Hiruma’s heartbeat in his chest through his back and their thin shirts. Hiruma ran his hands slowly down Ichigo’s arms and over his shoulders as he pulled them back.  
“Now thumb the safety off.”  
Ichigo shakily did as told, making sure to concentrate on the gun and aiming, lest something go off that wasn’t supposed to, but Hiruma was making it hard. Hiruma ran his hands over Ichigo’s stomach, mapping out defined abs with his fingers. Ichigo’s stomach had jumped a little at his touch and it stayed tense underneath it.   
“Pull the trigger.”  
The shot rang out in the silence of the large room, but Ichigo stood still, holding his position until Hiruma said he could move. Ichigo wasn’t the teacher this time, Hiruma was. Hiruma dragged his hands away from Ichigo.  
“You can put the gun down now.” He muttered in disappointment. He was probably hoping to get a bigger reaction from Ichigo.   
He was going to get his wish. Ichigo put the gun on the concrete floor and swiftly turned to Hiruma, guiding his lips to his with his hands underneath Hiruma’s chin. Hiruma let out a surprised moan and latched onto Ichigo with his fingers tangling in his hair. Hiruma pressed his body against Ichigo and Ichigo wrapped his arms around Hiruma’s back and hips, pulling him closer. Once again, their mouths opened to each other, but this time their tongues came out to play. Ichigo’s tongue snaked past Hiruma’s lips and their tongues slid around each other. Ichigo guided Hiruma back to the nearest concrete wall and pushed him against it, not hard enough to hurt Hiruma, but firm enough to pin him there. Ichigo’s hands roamed Hiruma’s chest and stomach as they continued kissing. When Ichigo reached Hiruma’s hips, he slid his hands down his thighs and picked Hiruma up to wrap his legs around Ichigo’s waist. Hiruma started to explore Ichigo chest and abs. They were still kissing and neither wanted to ever stop as they pawed at each other.   
Ichigo was running his hands up and down Hiruma’s thighs when Hiruma wormed his hands underneath the back of Ichigo’s shirt. Ichigo thought nothing of it when it happened, too busy kissing Hiruma. It was when Hiruma froze with his hands tracing something, that Ichigo remembered the rough skin of the scars on his back.  
And Hiruma was probably wondering what they were.  
Ichigo pulled his mouth from Hiruma’s slowly. Both were breathing heavily, still in each other’s space. Ichigo looked into Hiruma’s eyes, into his questioning gaze, and rested his forehead against Hiruma’s.  
“Maybe we should stop.” Ichigo whispered.  
“Because of this?” Hiruma ran his hands along one of the large scars on Ichigo’s back and Ichigo bit his lip to hold back a small moan. The skin around the rough skin was sensitive. Ichigo looked into Hiruma’s eyes and he tried to lie to him, but found, he couldn’t.  
“Yes.” Ichigo whispered cautiously.   
“They’re scars, aren’t they?” Hiruma murmured.  
Ichigo’s breath hitched and his eyes widened in surprise. He never thought Hiruma would be able to tell from touch. Ever since his first fight with a hollow, Ichigo had had to hide his scars. He stopped going to the pool without a shirt on. He started changing in the stalls in the boy’s locker room instead of around everyone else. He wore darker shirts underneath his school uniform so there would be no chance of someone seeing the scars that stood our starkly against his skin. He was a war veteran. He had a lot of scars, in mind and body.   
Ichigo ducked his head to look down at Hiruma’s collar bone, thumbs running over Hiruma’s thighs. Hiruma let his head fall back against the concrete.   
“You’ll have to tell me someday.” He said softly, “About how you got them. I’d like to know.”  
Ichigo focused on his collar bone, hesitating before slightly nodding. Hiruma sighed, then patted Ichigo’s shoulder.   
“Let me down. We’ve got a lot of guns to go through.”  
\----------------------  
Kami, what Hiruma must be thinking now. He was just a human. He was just a high schooler. He didn't have the same experiences Ichigo did and now he was kidnapped by someone who was used to seeing war and bloodshed. Raiko had once been a shinigami, the Onmitsukido's background on him said. He'd participated in the war against the Quincy’s and just thinking that Hiruma might be around that type of person, the type of person who helped commit genocide, set Ichigo's teeth on edge.   
Ichigo grunted when his reitsu laden feet hit a rooftop tile a little too hard and broke it in two. The team leader gave him a warning glance, but let him be.   
'Concentrate.' Ichigo told himself. If he couldn't concentrate, or if he let his rage or any other emotion rule him, the Onmitsukido would kick him off the mission faster than he could say, well, anything.   
He had to stay calm for Hiruma. He couldn't be furious just yet, for Hiruma. He had to stow away thoughts of ripping Raiko's spine out through his mouth into a little box in the back of his head for now, for Hiruma.   
Ichigo had let loose his rage earlier, destroying more than one training ground and sending more than one sparring partner to the Fourth. He'd felt guilty afterwards, but not enough to distract him from thoughts of Hiruma.   
And again, Ichigo wondered how Hiruma might be feeling right now.  
\----------------------  
In the meantime, several districts away, sitting outside on the polished wooden porch, sat Hiruma. In a strange place and visited only by enemies, he pieced a puzzle together from pieces given to him by the man called Raiko.


	3. Chapter 3

Hiruma stared out past the elaborate garden and white walls to the pink and purple sky like a bird would stare out of a gilded cage. He absently adjusted his silk kimono as the sky darkened and the guards patrolling the rooftops around him continued walking along red tiles as they had ever since he’d been brought there. Hiruma had been brought to an unknown place that looked like something straight out of the feudal era, though he’d only seen a small part of the compound. Using his genius tactician mind, Hiruma had deduced that he was probably in some temple out in the forests of Japan, away from people. The only buildings left that were built like the one he was in were temples. The air there was clean, not at all like air in smog-infested Tokyo and he couldn’t hear any cars or other sounds that came with being near a city.  
He was isolated. Alone, except for his stoic guards and that fucker, Raiko, who came to visit and gloat once in a while. He loved to gloat about all the things that Ichigo hadn’t told him, that he’d lied about. Hiruma didn’t believe a word of his stupid, fake stories. Hollows? Shinigami? The afterlife? It was all a load of crap. And yet… and yet there were some things that didn’t add up with the story Ichigo had told him regarding his job. And Ichigo was the reason why Hiruma was kidnapped in the first place. The people who took him had probably been watching him for a while. Maybe since their first date. Maybe since Hiruma started to think about his relationship with Ichigo as something more than a thing he could just break off at any time. When did he start thinking like this? Hiruma wondered. When did he start taking this thing they called a relationship seriously?  
Hiruma thought about it for a while going through all their dates, all their outings, all their meet-ups. He analyzed every smile, every pick-up of his own heart, every thought of ‘I could get used to this’ and decided that it probably started when his team (his friends, a little voice that sounded like Ichigo whispered) found out that he was dating someone. That was when there’d been no way to wriggle out of the relationship without at least some humiliation now that people knew.   
\----------------------------  
“Ne, Yoi-Nii! Yoi-Nii!”  
“Che, what is it fucking skates?” Hiruma asked as he clacked away on his computer.  
“Me and some of the team were gonna go see the newest horror movie after practice. Do you wanna come?” she asked cheerily.  
“I already saw that poor fucking excuse of a horror movie. Besides, I have a date with my boyfriend tomorrow.”  
“What?!”  
“A boyfriend?!”  
“You’re dating a boy?!”  
“You have a date?!”  
Some of the players shouted in the Deimon football clubhouse. Even Musashi and Kurita, Hiruma’s closest friends, looked surprised. A tick mark appeared on Hiruma’s forehead.  
“That’s what I said! Are you all deaf as well as dumb?!”  
“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend, Yoi-Nii!” Suzuna squealed as the football players just looked on in disbelief.   
“I didn’t even know he was gay.” Kuroki said to Togano and Juumonji.   
“I’m not gay. The hinges on my door are broken and I swing every which way!” Hiruma cackled.  
Something in there’s broken. Musashi thought, picking at his ear with his pinky finger. The rest of the team sweat dropped.  
“Now, get to practice!” Hiruma shouted while firing his machine gun.   
:-:-:-  
“Hey, Sena,” Monta said as the two of them did sideways runs on the ladder on the ground, “What do you think Hiruma-Senpai’s boyfriend is like?”   
‘I’m glad I’m not the only one thinking about that.’ Sena thought.   
“I don’t know,” he said, “Usually people who are similar date so, maybe something like Hiruma-Senpai?”  
The two first years shivered at the thought of two Hirumas running around shooting guns and causing chaos.   
“O-or maybe not! After all, there’s no way there could be two Hirumas in the world, let alone Japan, right?” Sena stuttered.  
“Right!” Monta tried to reassure himself.  
“Pfft. I bet he’s a wimpy, girly boy.” Said Juumonji, “That’s how it is, right? One guy is girly and the other is just a guy.”  
‘That’s a close-minded way of looking at it.’ Sean sweat dropped.  
Musashi rolled his eyes, “That’s not always how it works. It doesn’t matter what type of guy it is, all types will end up together, just like how guys and girls do.”  
Juumonji scratched the back of his head, “Oh, really?”  
“How do you know, Musashi-Senpai?” Monta asked.  
Musashi shrugged, “It’s pretty obvious. Relationships are relationships no matter the gender.”  
By now, the rest of the team had stopped practicing to listen in.  
“I still think Hiruma’s got a girly guy for a boyfriend.” Kuroki said, “He’d want someone he could intimidate, right?”  
“Well, that would count just about all of Japan, including any other guy.” Yukimitsu said.   
“Ah, that’s right…”  
“Kurita-Senpai, Musashi-Senpai, what kind of person do you think Hiruma-Senpai is dating?” Monta asked them.  
Musashi hummed in thought, looking up at the sky, “No idea.”  
“What?!” half the team shouted.  
“Well, Hiruma has never really been interested in anyone before.” Kurita said, wringing his hands together, “As far as we know, at least.”  
“Yeah. Who knows what type of person caught Hiruma’s eye?” Musashi said.  
“So, it’s like that, huh?” Monta said crossing his arms.  
‘It’s a mystery to even the people who know Hiruma-Senpai best…” Sena sighed.  
Bullets bounced off the ground right at everyone’s feet.   
“What the fuck are you morons doing standing around, huh?! Get to work!”  
The team scrambled to go back to what they were doing before the conversation had derailed them from practice. Musashi studied Hiruma for a minute before he too, went back to practicing. Hiruma inwardly growled, then sighed. Looks like he’d have to introduce his team to his boyfriend to get them to focus on practice like they had before.  
:-:-:-  
“Eh? You want me to come to one of your practices?” Ichigo said.   
Hiruma let out a high pitched whistle, signaling for Cerberus to come to him.   
“Yeah. My stupid fucking team found out that I was dating someone and now they can’t focus on practice like they should.”  
Cerberus came careening around a corner, a trail of dust following after him. He screeched to a stop in front of Hiruma, panting and wagging his tail. A few moments later, a little pink pig followed his trail. Ichigo stared at the little pig, then at the very Hiruma-esque dog, but didn’t ask.  
“So, how did your team find out in the first place?”  
Hiruma fought with the small blush that threatened to color his ears, but Ichigo must have seen it anyway. Hiruma really hated that about him, that he was able to read him so easily. Ichigo didn’t allow Hiruma to stay mysteriously shrouded in his demonic persona. He dragged him out into the light to reveal him as human and that was something Hiruma wasn’t used to.   
Ichigo smirked at him.  
“You let it slip, didn’t you?”  
Hiruma felt himself lose the battle with his blush and felt his ears turn red.   
“You did!”  
Hiruma shoved Ichigo away with one arm and knelt to clip a chain leash onto Cerberus’ collar as he sat patiently. The humans and animals started walking, making their way towards a park.   
“So are you gonna come, or not?”  
“Of course I will. It’s my fault they’re distracted after all.”  
They walked in silence until they got to the park. Just as they were about to cross the street to walk into it and it’s twisting pathways, Hiruma’s ears pricked up, hearing something he did not want to hear just then. Motorcycle engines.   
A group of motorcycles rounded the corner, their leader a very familiar visage. Habashira Rui rode at the head of the group, long arms easily reaching the handles of his bike as he sat back. He spotted Hiruma, bleach blonde hair standing out against the grey concrete wall behind him. Ichigo standing next to him with his bright orange hair just made him easier to spot. Habashira smoothly pulled his motorcycle over to the curb, the rest of the group following his lead.   
“Yo, Hiruma,” Habashira greeted. Hiruma could feel Ichigo next to him bristling at the casual way Habashira said his name.   
Habashira eyed Ichigo, taking in his bright orange hair and scowling visage, and then Hiruma, with his leash in hand attached to a sitting Cerberus.  
“This guy bothering you?” Habashira asked jutting his chin out at Ichigo. Hiruma felt Ichigo bristle even more next to him.   
“We’re fine.” Hiruma said. Ichigo crossed his arms, still scowling at Habashira.  
“You sure?” Habashira turned off his motorcycle and got off it, stepping onto the curb, “Cause it looks like this guy is bothering you.”  
Habashira stepped closer to Ichigo, getting in his space, trying to menace him. Ichigo just scowled deeper. His body went tense, like he was holding himself back from punching Habashira’s lights out. Hiruma diffused the situation before it could escalate. He got between the two delinquents, pushing them back by their chests.  
“Knock it off, you fucking idiots.”  
“Me and my guys can take care of this guy easily, Hiruma.” Habashira said. The rest of his group started getting off of their motorcycles, making their way to stand behind Habashira.  
“I’m not bothering him.” Ichigo said before Hiruma could. Hiruma really wanted to smack Ichigo and tell him to stay quiet. Anything he said could just make the situation worse. For whatever reason, Habashira was determined to be his knight in scaly armor. Probably to get on his good side.   
“Who the hell are you, anyway?” Habashira said, sneering, putting his face even closer to Ichigo’s in an attempt to intimidate him. Ichigo didn’t back off, though. He just got more pissed at Habashira being in his space.   
“I’m his boyfriend. Who the hell are you?”  
Habashira stared at him, “Is that a fucking joke?”  
“No, you fucking ass. I’m his boyfriend.”  
Habashira looked from Ichigo to Hiruma, who just said, “He’s my fucking boyfriend.”  
“Since when do you have a boyfriend?” Habashira asked Hiruma.   
“Since a few weeks ago. Now fuck off,” Hiruma linked his arm with Ichigo’s, forcing him to uncross them, “We’re on a date.”  
Habashira stared at the two of them, then ‘che-ed’, but backed off, along with his cronies. They all got back on their bikes, but before they rode off, Habashira pointed a threatening finger at Ichigo.   
“If you don’t take care of him, you’ll have to answer to me.”  
The group pulled away from the curb and rode off, the sound of engines fading as they got further and further away.   
“Well, that was interesting.” Ichigo said. Hiruma just groaned. They walked across the street to the park, Cerberus trotting along happily.   
“He must be a close friend for him to threaten me like that.” Ichigo said. Hiruma snorted.  
“He’s not a friend.”   
“He obviously thinks he is.”  
Hiruma didn’t say anything more on the subject for the rest of the walk.  
:-:-:-  
The next day, Ichigo arrived at Deimon High School after schools all around the country had let out in the afternoon. He leaned against the gates as Hiruma walked towards him in his football uniform.  
“Oi!”  
Ichigo turned around at the shout and his jaw practically dropped at seeing Hiruma. Hiruma smirked. Ichigo had never seen him up close in his football uniform and Hiruma knew how tight the pants were.   
“You coming or not?”  
Hiruma heard Ichigo scramble after him as he turned without waiting for a response. Hiruma kept smirking. It was nice having someone trip after him in infatuation. Ichigo eventually caught up with him after tripping a few times, coming to walk next to Hiruma to the field. They walked down some stone steps to the large grassy area to where the entire Devilbats team stood waiting, ready for practice.   
“Listen up, fucking morons!” Hiruma shouted at them. He whipped out a machine gun from seemingly nowhere and rested it on his shoulder. The team was torn between looking at Hiruma’s gun, they always stared at whatever gun he had in his hand at the time, just in case he decided to point it at them, and staring at Ichigo.   
“This,” Hiruma pointed his gun at Ichigo, who just swatted it away in irritation when it almost hit him, “is my fucking boyfriend. Fucking boyfriend,” Hiruma turned to Ichigo and pointed his gun at his team. Most of them ducked away from the muzzle. “This is my fucking team.”   
Ichigo sweat dropped at Hiruma’s short, half assed introductions and introduced himself to the team.   
“Yo, Kurosaki Ichigo.”  
The team stared at him, a couple of mouths opening to reply, when a squeal pierced the air. Hiruma noticed Ichigo twitch hard at the sound and tucked that tidbit of information away for later.   
“Yoi-nii, this is your boyfriend?! You’re so lucky! He’s hot!” squealed the small girl in a cheerleader’s outfit. She skated over to the two and glided around Ichigo, inspecting him.  
“Is he an athlete? He looks strong! Does he play football? Has he seen any of our games? What kind of dates do you guys go on? What grade is he in? Where does he go to school? What does-“  
“Fucking skates!” Hiruma interrupted, “You’ll have plenty of time to interrogate him later. Right now, he’s here to help us with practice.”  
“He is?”  
“I am?”  
“Yes!,” Hiruma fired his gun at his team, “Now get practicing!”   
Hiruma heard Ichigo chuckle a little. He turned to Doburoku and said, “This guy can help you with the fucking linemen. He should be able to handle them.”  
“Oh? Is he a lineman?”  
“He was an all-rounder. He played whatever position his team assigned to him and he was good at it.”  
Doburoku raised an eyebrow at Hiruma, “All-rounders usually aren’t the best players, since they switch between positions so much that they never get enough practice in one position to become good at it.”  
“Well, this one’s different. He’ll help you train the linemen for now.”  
Doburoku shrugged, acquiescing to Hiruma’s decision. Once Hiruma had a plan, it was hard to derail him from it.  
Doburoku motioned for Ichigo to follow him and that’s when Musashi stepped up next to Hiruma.   
“You sure he can help us? We don’t have time for whatever games you’re playing with your boyfriend, Hiruma.”  
“Che, I wouldn’t have brought him here if I didn’t think he could help.”  
“Who is he anyway? I’ve never heard of him. And if I’ve never heard of him, I don’t see how he could have caught your attention.”  
Hiruma was silent for a moment before saying, “Do you remember that match we went to in the beginning of the season? The one between the Karakura Ghosts and the Hori Fantasy Monsters?”  
“I’m pretty sure everyone remembers that match. That’s the only sighting of The Comet.”  
The Comet was a high school football player that had only played in one match. He had some of the best athleticism that anyone had ever seen. Some of the best players in Japanese high school football sought him out to challenge him, but no one knew who he was. Much like their own Eyeshield 21, Musashi mused. He was called The Comet because he’d come for one game, and then had disappeared in a flash.  
“Well,” Hiruma nodded his head at Ichigo, “That’s The Comet.”  
Musashi looked at him in disbelief, then looked at Ichigo, then looked back at Hiruma.  
“Are you serious?”  
“Would I joke, fucking Old Man?”  
“No,” Musashi hummed, “You wouldn’t.”  
Musashi looked at Ichigo speculatively.  
“Well, if you say he can help, he can probably help.”   
“Damn right.”  
As Musashi walked away to get to his own practice, Hiruma spotted a hunched form lurking on the edge of the field. Hiruma quickly walked over the figure, thinking it might’ve been some wayward student or some player from a different school trying to spy on them. He was surprised to see that it was one of his slaves. Specifically, the one he’d assigned to gather more information on Ichigo.   
“What the fuck are you doing here?”  
The slave cleared his throat, “E-excuse me, Hiruma-san, but you said to report to you the moment I had something.”  
“I didn’t mean for you to fucking show up during practice when the person I sent you to gather information on is right fucking here.”  
The middle aged man cluelessly looked over to the field and squeaked when he saw bright orange hair over by the linemen.   
“I-I didn’t know-“  
“Whatever. What do you have?”  
The man handed Hiruma a manila envelope. Quite a few pictures fell out of it when Hiruma tipped it over into his hand.   
“What are these?” Hiruma asked going through them. They were all pictures of Ichigo with different people.   
“These are pictures of the people he’s around the most. Half of them are classmates of his. The other half are unknown associates. He’s around these two,” the man pointed out a picture of Ichigo a small dark haired girl and a tall man with long red hair and tattoos everywhere, “the most. But…”  
“What?”  
“There’s absolutely nothing on them. No birth certificates, no know affiliates or acquaintances outside of Kurosaki and his group of friends, no taxes, no medical history, no known place of residence. If they hadn’t been standing right down the street from me at one point, they wouldn’t exist. Not even yakuza members have this level of anonymity. And they’re not the only ones.”  
The brown haired man took several other pictures out of the pile showing Ichigo with other people. A white haired middle schooler, a bald man, a big breasted woman, a man with feathers on his eyebrow, a man with straight blond hair and a weird smile, and a man in a green outfit with a white and green striped hat on his head.  
“All these people are the same. They don’t exist on paper. Even one person like that is strange enough, but this many? I don’t know what to make of it.”  
Hiruma stared down at the pictures in his hands, studying the people who should have had at least a birth certificate to their name. How could they be completely off the radar? That was impossible in this day and age.   
“Did you check for credit cards?”  
“Yes, nothing.”  
“Previous criminal activity?”  
That was what made this man such a valuable slave. He was a cop. Hiruma had caught him taking money from drug and yakuza busts and now he was under Hiruma’s thumb.  
“None.”  
“Did you check against known gang tattoos for ones matching the red heads?”  
“Yes, there was nothing like them.”  
Hiruma huffed almost silently. Just another mystery to add to Kurosaki Ichigo. He stuffed the pictures back in the envelope.  
“Anything else?”  
“There is…something.”  
Hiruma raised an eyebrow at him.  
“I asked around and apparently, Kurosaki’s friends often go with him when he runs out in the middle of class.”  
“Hmm.” Ichigo always ran out right before an explosion took place. He admitted to being a vigilante. If his friends from school often went with him to stop an explosion, then they were also vigilantes. But who were the other people and what did they have to do with Ichigo?  
\---------------------  
Hiruma never really found out who exactly those other people were. The cop was right when he said they didn’t exist. Not even Hiruma, with slaves in high places, could find anything on them. Hiruma had never made up his mind to ask Ichigo about them. He hadn’t wanted Ichigo to know that he was digging into him, but at the same time, there shouldn’t have been secrets like that in their relationship.   
There shouldn’t have been.  
\--------------------  
Ichigo walked Hiruma home after practice. It was one of those sappy cliché things that he liked to do, but didn’t really get a chance to do it. Hiruma just went along with it because it made Ichigo happy. And if he was honest with himself, it made him a little happy too. Right up until Ichigo’s phone blared the same way it did the night of their first big fight. Hiruma sent Ichigo a sharp, calculated glance out of the corner of his eye as Ichigo checked his phone, then put it away. He made no move to go anywhere.  
“Wasn’t that work?” Hiruma asked lightly.  
“Yep.”  
Hiruma waited, and when no other information was forthcoming, asked, “Don’t you have to go take care of that?”  
“Nope. Someone else is closer.”  
Of course. Of course someone else was closer when Ichigo was all the way in Tokyo. He seemed perfectly fine with the idea of his friends going to stop a bomb without him. Was he really that used to it? If Hiruma’s suspicions were right, then Ichigo has been doing this since his second year of high school, but even the most veteran bomb diffuser was nervous about disarming them. Unless it wasn’t a bomb. Then what the hell was causing the explosions in a way that Ichigo and his friends could stop them?   
Hiruma shot Ichigo another look. Nope, not concerned at all.   
They got to a street corner near Hiruma’s apartment building, the closest that Hiruma allowed Ichigo to get to knowing where he lived.   
“That was fun.” Ichigo said referring to practice earlier.   
“You just had fun knocking the stuffing out of my linebackers.” Snorted Hiruma.   
Ichigo grinned unabashedly, “Yep.”  
\-------------------------  
Ichigo had kissed him goodnight like the sap he was and Hiruma had been left to ponder the new pieces to his puzzle. Frustratingly, they were pieces he still hadn’t figured out. He wasn’t used to this, having so many pieces and not being able to fit them together.   
The door to his room behind him opened and in came two guards, followed by Raiko. Raiko walked forward in his old fashioned robes and grabbed Hiruma by the arm, hauling him up from where he’d been sitting on the porch that opened to the courtyard. Hiruma yanked his arm away.  
“Don’t touch me.” He hissed.  
“You know,” Raiko said almost conversationally, “You have been a very rude prisoner.”  
Raiko grabbed Hiruma again, this by both arms, his fingers digging into them in an ironclad grip.  
“I think it’s time we change that.”   
Raiko dragged Hiruma from the room, his two guards shutting the door behind them.  
\----------------------  
Hiruma allowed himself to look over to where Ichigo was in the stands five times during the Bando game. Of course, he knew exactly where he was in the huge stadium. He was the one who gave Ichigo the tickets to perfect front row seats for him and his sisters.   
The first time Hiruma looked was during the introductions, just to see if he was even there. He was, of course. There was no way he would miss this. Sitting next to him were two young girls, clapping and cheering with everyone else, waving their plastic Devilbat wings. Ichigo was smiling wide as Hiruma walked out onto the field, the next introduction already in play. He kept his eyes on Hiruma the whole time and Hiruma wondered what he’d done to deserve such a smile. One that reached and took over his eyes like light took over shadows. One that softened the color into melted chocolate that Hiruma hated, but Ichigo loved. One that made Hiruma’s heart beat faster without his permission and made Hiruma not care about anything else in the world but keeping that smile on Ichigo’s face. And then Ichigo looked away, talking to his sister and the sound of a stadium full of people rushed back into Hiruma’s ears. Hiruma… Hiruma had to push fear down. He had to shove it back down his throat and into his stomach where butterflies from hell fluttered and he had to actively work to crush each and every one of them. He ignored the fear, the fear of losing that smile forever, the fear of messing up the only relationship he’d ever had, the fear that it would all be for nothing once Ichigo got sick of him or decided he was better off without him. The fear of falling in love. Hiruma couldn’t think of it right now. He couldn’t not concentrate on the game that was their last chance for the Christmas Bowl. He had to be a commander. He had to be a quarterback. He had to be a coach. And for now, he had to be detached from Ichigo and play the game.   
The second time Hiruma looked over at Ichigo was after he’d been tackled by Akaba after blocking him for a split second. Ichigo wasn’t looking at Hiruma then, he was glaring daggers at Akaba. ‘How dare you hurt him’, his expression seemed to say, ‘How dare you hurt him for your own selfish gains?’ It was ridiculous. Hiruma knew you could hardly take that much from an expression, but Ichigo’s just seemed to scream it. Hiruma knew Ichigo was protective. He was almost famous for it among the delinquents and gangs that went to fight him. But to have that protectiveness aimed at him, who has never had it before? Hiruma crushed the fluttering feeling that had started up again and focused on the game.   
The third time, during half time, the wind was picking up and clouds had moved in. The spotlights were bright against the field. Hiruma glanced over and his breath caught in his throat. Ichigo was just looking at his team, but the wind that had suddenly appeared was playing with his hair, making it dance and twist like fire. Hiruma looked away before he could be caught, mesmerized by it and thought that he might have to take Ichigo to the beach just to see the wind play with that hair again.   
The fourth time was after Musashi revealed just a little too much for Hiruma’s liking. Though probably no one made the connection except for Musashi and Kurita (and Anezaki, that woman was too perceptive for her own good). Hiruma looked over and wondered if Ichigo knew. If he knew just how weak Hiruma really was. He did not have any impressive muscles or natural born gifts. He was not at Ichigo’s level with the top players of the tournament. He was normal. Normal speed, normal skill, normal strength. Hiruma wondered if Ichigo knew and wondered if he would stay if he ever saw through his devil charade. Then Hiruma remembered that Ichigo had seen through that charade long ago and he was still there.   
The fifth time was to see Ichigo’s reaction to the fucking chibi’s light speed run. At 4.2 seconds, it was the fastest a high schooler could go and not even Ichigo had been recorded as using that type of speed during his one match. Ichigo had looked, Ichigo had seen, but Ichigo was not impressed. He didn’t wear the same amazed expressions of those around him. Ichigo was seeing the game, but it wasn’t affecting him like it was everyone else. Yes, he cheered and clapped with the crowd and he did mean it, but he just… wasn’t impressed by the strength and speed and fury of the game. Another piece to add to the puzzle, because even a professional athlete would have been fucking dazzled.   
And if, at the end of the game, Hiruma snuck a sixth glance at Ichigo to see him cheering for them, well, no one but Hiruma would know.  
\---------------------  
Hiruma was dragged down the hallway by Raiko in his bruising grip, his two guards following them. Hiruma shook his arm hard to try to dislodge Raiko’s grip, but with no luck. The wooden floors gleamed with candlelight and, occasionally, moonlight as they walked down the endless halls. Hiruma tried to keep track of where they were going, but all the twist and turns made it impossible. The temple was like a maze. Every hallway looked the same as the last.   
They finally came to a door that was different from all the rest. It wasn’t like all the other sliding paper doors, this one was metal and it opened like a modern door. It had chains on it, and a dark substance that Hiruma couldn’t identify stained it.   
\----------------------  
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you, or are you going to make me guess?”  
Hiruma was dragged out of his distracted thoughts to Ichigo staring at him with a hint of worry in his features. Hiruma faintly realized that he’d been staring out the window at the hustle and bustle of Karakura, his grandmother’s voice from that phone call ringing in his head.   
“Yoichi, right? I understand you don’t want to answer but I just want to tell you one thing… Well, if I say congratulations for getting into the Kantou tournament, you’ll probably get angry. Still, I’ll be praying that you’ll go all the way to the Christmas Bowl and, even though I think you probably won’t call him by that title anymore, your father will be too.”  
“…your father will be too.”  
It played over and over in his head.  
“…your father will be too.”  
Hiruma didn’t just not call that man ‘father’ anymore, he denied that he ever was his father. As far as Hiruma was concerned, he doesn’t have and never has had a father. His grandmother was the only parent he had ever had.   
“Yoichi?”  
Hiruma looked at Ichigo again. His gaze had wandered back to the window. Hiruma stared at Ichigo for a moment, wondering if he should tell him about his family, before he dully realized that he didn’t have it in him right then. He didn’t want to talk about his screwed up family.   
“…your father will be too.”  
Ichigo was still staring at him worriedly.   
“I’m fine.” Hiruma said.   
“…your father will be too.”  
\------------------  
“Maybe this will make you more compliant.”  
Raiko’s guards opened the door, revealing a concrete room with manacles on the walls. Raiko dragged Hiruma into the room, Hiruma fighting him the whole way, and forced him to sit on the dirty ground by the far wall. He cuffed Hiruma’s arms in bitingly cold manacles above his head. Raiko cupped Hiruma’s jaw and forced him to look at him. He smirked at Hiruma, running his thumb over his bottom lip and Hiruma snarled and jerked his head away.   
“Have fun.” Raiko said still smirking as he left the room. The heavy metal door closed with an ominous slam, leaving Hiruma in the cold dimly lit room.   
\-----------------  
Ice skating was one of the dates for couples in Japan and one Hiruma never wanted to go on. It was cheesy, it was corny, and it was girly. Three things that Hiruma was definitely not. But Ichigo had looked at him with those eyes and smiled at him with that smile and Hiruma found himself agreeing after his vehement ‘Hell, no!’.   
Now he and Ichigo found themselves at the smaller indoor ice-skating rink on the outskirts of Tokyo that Hiruma had insisted on. There were far less people there than the huge rink in the middle of Tokyo at this time of year. And that was great for Hiruma. That meant less people to embarrass himself in front of because there were some things that Hiruma didn’t know and one of them was how to ice skate.   
Hiruma stared blankly at the skates in his hands as Ichigo sat down on the bleachers to put his on. Hiruma sat down next to him and took his shoes off. The skates looked simple enough to put on. There were just laces going down the shoe part. The blade part looked like it could make a good weapon. As Hiruma put the skates on, he absently wondered if anyone had ever gotten injured by the blades by running into each other.   
The two of them stood up, Hiruma cautiously, and walked awkwardly to the ice. Ichigo didn’t hesitate stepping into the rink, but Hiruma paused right on the threshold. How the hell was he going to fake being able to ice skate? Hiruma watched a few people for a moment, looking at how they moved their feet and legs, then stepped onto the ice under Ichigo’s questioning gaze. The ice was even more slippery than he thought it would be and his legs flew out from under him in a heartbeat. Hiruma landed on his back and cursed inside his head. So much for faking it. Ichigo’s worried gaze interrupted his view of the ceiling.  
“Are you okay?”  
“Peachy.” Scoffed Hiruma. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared. Then, decided to actually tell the truth. “I can’t ice skate.”  
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ichigo asked as he held out a hand to help Hiruma up. Hiruma sat up and took it and Ichigo carefully hauled him up. He supported him by letting Hiruma hold onto his arms, Hiruma staying almost deathly still. He felt as if any movement would cause his legs to fly out from under him again.   
“Because.” Hiruma said.   
“Because why? I can teach you how.”  
Hiruma didn’t know what he was supposed to say. That his grandmother was too poor to ever take him to an ice skating rink when he was young? Then he would have to explain that he was raised by his grandmother because his father was a dick and a poor excuse for a human being. Which would raise even more questions and topics that Hiruma really didn’t want to talk about. So, Hiruma steered clear of that answer and decided to actually tell a part of the truth, even if it did make him seem weak.   
“It’s embarrassing.”  
“That you can’t ice skate? Not everyone can, Yoichi.”  
“That I’ve never been to an ice skating rink before.” Admitted Hiruma, “Unless it was to gather blackmail.” He added.   
“What?” Ichigo’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “You’ve never been ice skating before?”  
Hiruma really didn’t want to go down the path of talking about his family.  
“I was never invited to go.” He said instead. He said it nonchalantly, like the early years of being shunned by his classmates because he was different didn’t hurt. Like the fact that he’d never had a friend until Kurita in middle school was something that was the same with everyone. Like not being invited to any birthday parties or play dates when he was little was normal. He’d tried to forget all those things a long time ago, when he decided that if people treated him like a monster and a freak, then he would become the best he could be at it.   
“What about Kurita and Musashi?” asked Ichigo.  
Hiruma scoffed, “We’re teenage athletes. We’re obsessed with football and not at all interested in ice skating.”  
“Fair enough. Now move your feet like you’re walking…”  
\-------------------  
Hiruma smiled almost softly at the memory, ignoring the cold chill of the concrete seeping through his kimono. His wrists were hurting, the manacles too tight around them, and he was starting to lose feeling in his fingers from the blood rushing out of them. Hiruma tried to push away those feelings of discomfort, focusing on the memory of him and Ichigo skating around the rink, hand in hand.   
Against his will, Hiruma started to wonder if he’d ever get out of there. Would Ichigo come for him? Is this really because of him? Hiruma’s mind drifted to another memory. One that actually supported Ichigo being a warrior.  
\-------------------  
“What the fuck’s with that smile?” Hiruma shot at Ichigo.  
Ichigo’s smile vanished for a second in surprise, then came back. He hadn’t even known he was smiling.   
“Nothing,” he said, “I just like walking you home.”  
“You technically don’t even walk me home.” Hiruma said. Hiruma had only ever let Ichigo walk him to the general vicinity of his apartment. Only Kurita, Musashi, and his grandmother knew where he lived.   
“I know,” Ichigo said, “And that’s fine. You don’t feel comfortable enough yet to let me know where you live. I’ll wait until you do.”  
Maybe Ichigo would be on that list someday.   
The two of them cut through an alleyway as a shortcut, talking about Hiruma’s football practice and Ichigo’s recent visit to the dojo to help Tatsuki with a children’s class. Two men walked down from the other end of the alley. Ichigo and Hiruma didn’t pay any attention to them until they blocked their paths. They scowled at the men and the men gazed at the unflinchingly as they stood as rooted to the ground as wide oaks.  
Ichigo stepped partway in front of Hiruma, shielding him, but also knowing that he could handle himself against a few normal humans. Two more men appeared at the other end of the alley, advancing to box the two teenagers in. Ichigo backed the two of them up so their backs were facing the brick alley wall, Hiruma still behind him. Hiruma let him. He knew Ichigo was driven to protect the people he cared about. It was obvious every time he fought some wannabee thug for someone.   
A sleek black car pulled up to the alley, even more men getting out and opening the back door for a fit middle-aged man. He walked sedately to the middle of the alley where Ichigo and Hiruma were backed up against the wall. Ichigo put his fists up as he and his bodyguards approached, causing every guard in the alley to put a hand on the illegal guns on their hips. Guns that had real bullets, something that not even Hiruma used.   
The man in the middle of it all put a hand up and the guards left their firearms alone. He smiled at the two high schoolers and spread his arms welcomingly.  
“Hiruma-kun!”  
Hiruma just glared at him, keeping silent. This man was not someone anyone wanted to antagonize, not even him. The man walked closer and Ichigo stepped fully in front of Hiruma, the death glare on his face just daring the man to try anything. The man chuckled.  
“Is this your bodyguard, Hiruma-kun?”  
Hiruma still didn’t say anything and he could see the muscles between Ichigo’s shoulder blades grow tenser the longer he didn’t speak. The man in front of them jerked his head to the side.  
“Move it, boy. Me and Hiruma-kun need to have a little talk.”  
Hiruma’s heart sped up at that. A yakuza boss was not someone you wanted to ‘have a little talk’ with.   
In front of him, Ichigo didn’t move a centimeter. The yakuza boss frowned.   
“Are you deaf, boy? I said move.”  
Ichigo remained where he was, still glaring at the man, Hiruma guessed. A storm overtook the boss’ face.   
“I’m feeling gracious, so I’ll tell you one more time, boy. Move. Or there will be consequences. For you and Hiruma-kun.”  
This had to stop. Hiruma put a hand on Ichigo’s shoulder. Ichigo tilted his head towards him, but didn’t take his eyes off the boss and his men in front of them.   
“Ichigo,” Hiruma said quietly, too quiet for the people boxing them in to hear, “Move. Get away now, while you still can. I’ll be fine.”  
The words were unlike him. He was usually one to sacrifice others for himself, not the other way around. But when he’d realized who’s men were in front of them, trapping them, he’d realized something else.   
He did not want Ichigo hurt. Especially not because of him. That time in the park, when Ichigo had come back with cuts and blood running down his arms had nearly given Hiruma a heart attack. Hiruma had seen what these yakuza were capable of. He’d seen their victims, stared them in the face, when they’d kidnapped him when he’d tried to blackmail them, and they’d brought him along on one of their jobs to teach him a lesson. It was a lesson Hiruma would never forget.   
Hiruma did not want to see Ichigo broken and bloody on the ground, or sightlessly staring up at the sky with a real bullet hole in his forehead. It just might break him.   
And Hiruma knew then that he’d fallen far too deep into the hole he’d dug for himself when he’d first accosted Ichigo on the streets of Karakura those few months ago.   
“Ichigo,” Hiruma said again when he didn’t answer. This time, Ichigo did look back at Hiruma over his shoulder and Hiruma shut up immediately. There was anger in those eyes. Anger at him, for even daring to think for one second that Ichigo would leave him to those men. Ichigo turned back to the yakuza when he saw Hiruma’s wide, surprised eyes and the comprehension in them.   
“If you want him,” Ichigo said the boss, “You’ll have to go through me.”  
The boss scowled at him.  
“Waste of my time.” He muttered. The boss snapped his fingers at two of his men and they walked towards Ichigo and Hiruma, drawing their guns. Hiruma tensed and Ichigo spread his feet and little more in preparation to fight. The two men just smirked at Ichigo, so sure of their ability to win against some teenager with their guns, that they didn’t expect it when Ichigo suddenly appeared right in front of them and clotheslined them at the same time. The boss stared at his two unconscious grunts on the dirty ground as Ichigo backed up to shield Hiruma again. His face twisted in fury.  
“Get them.” It was low and sounded like he was holding back from shouting, but the rest of the grunts in the alley ran at Ichigo and Hiruma. Every single one of them fell once they got within Ichigo’s reach. Hiruma could barely tell what Ichigo was doing from behind him. He was pulling off moves far more complicated than what he’d shown Hiruma at the dojo. Hiruma even thought he saw a couple of street fighting moves mixed in with the martial arts. Ichigo was doing great against the numerous men, even when a few of them pulled out weapons like chains and knives. He stopped when one of them pulled out his gun and fired it above his head. Ichigo stepped back so he was in front of Hiruma again. And then even closer so Hiruma was pushed against the wall.  
“Enough of this!” the man shouted, cheek already swelling and turning purple from where Ichigo’s fist had caught him. The man came closer and closer to the two teens, gun pointed at Ichigo’s head. Ichigo stood his ground, even when it felt like Hiruma couldn’t breathe with death staring them right in the face. The man finally came close enough to press the barrel of the gun against Ichigo’s forehead and Hiruma wanted to scream and plead for them to spare him and for Ichigo to stop because Hiruma wasn’t worth anyone’s life, especially not his.   
But he had to stay composed, and his voice was stuck in his throat, and he couldn’t show weakness. Not even in front of the yakuza. Especially not in front of the yakuza.   
“Move.” The man holding the gun said through clenched teeth. He pushed the barrel harder against Ichigo head and Ichigo, Ichigo just scowled at him and said, “No.”  
No.  
Just like that.   
Like he was just refusing someone’s request to please join this or that sports team. Like he didn’t have a gun to his head. Like Hiruma was worth dying for.  
“Ichigo!” Hiruma put a hand on his arm and came out from behind him halfway, only for Ichigo to push him back.   
The man with the gun smirked, “Fine.”  
Before he could even twitch his trigger finger, Ichigo grabbed the man’s wrist and twisted it, making the man drop the gun. Hiruma heard a sickening pop and the man howled in pain, staggering back and clutching his wrist. The other men that Ichigo had beaten were shakily getting up, ready to fight again and Ichigo wasn’t even panting.   
“Stop messing around!” the boss shouted, “Bring them to me!”  
The men charged at Ichigo and Hiruma again, and again Ichigo beat them all soundly, hitting hard enough that none of them got up a second time. The boss backed away from Ichigo and made a break for the end of the alley, where his car was waiting. Ichigo chased after him, leaving Hiruma leaning against the alley wall now that there was only one person who posed a danger. Ichigo caught up to the boss before he even got close to his car. He tackled him to the ground and pinned him by his shoulders, talking in a low voice that Hiruma couldn’t hear. Hiruma slid down the brick wall to sit on the ground, hearing only his heart pounding in his ears. Then, the boss started screaming. Hiruma’s gaze shot to the two figures on the ground, where Ichigo was still pinning the guy to the ground and the boss was desperately fighting to get out of his hold. Ichigo wasn’t doing anything to him, though. He was just staring at him. After a few seconds, Ichigo let go and got up. The boss crawled on his knees, scrambling to get away before he got to his feet and went running down the alley. He jumped into the driver’s seat of his car and screeched down the street in a weave, almost driving onto the sidewalk.   
Ichigo walked back to Hiruma and Hiruma just stared at him.   
‘What the fuck did you do?’ he wanted to say, but his voice was still stuck in his throat. The two of them had stared death in the face and death had blinked first. Hiruma slumped against the wall and exhaled slowly. Ichigo sat down next to him, staring at the sky, not looking at him.   
“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.   
Hiruma breathed in shakily, “Yeah.” His voice wavered and he cleared his throat. His fingers fidgeted for something to do and he looked around at the unconscious bodies surrounding them. Not even Agon could have done this. Not even Agon would have done this with a real gun with real bullets pointed at him. What Ichigo had just done was beyond simply beating up a few high school thugs that came after him. Where had he learned to fight like that? He fought as if it were normal to be in a life or death situation. Then again, he was a vigilante. Maybe it was normal for him. Hiruma didn’t like the thought of Ichigo being in those life or death situations every time he got a call on his phone.   
“Hey.”  
Hiruma looked over at Ichigo.   
“Want me to take you home?”  
Hiruma nodded. Ichigo was on that list now.   
\-----------------  
Ichigo hadn’t come inside, the first time he’d walked Hiruma to his apartment. He’d just made sure he got there safely. Starting then, he’d walked him home every day. He looked out for him. He made sure he was safe. No one had ever done that before. His father sure as hell hadn’t and his grandmother had been too old to. Ichigo had only ever missed one day in walking him home.   
\------------------  
Hiruma frowned, tapping one finger against the handle of his bag, the other hand resting on his hip. Ichigo was late. He was never late. In fact, he was usually early. Ichigo loved watching and helping his team practice. Hiruma’s frown deepened, causing the few extracurricular activity students still out and about to give him an even wider berth. He spotted two people approaching him and tensed. He relaxed, though, when he recognized them. They were wearing Karakura High School uniforms and they were in the pictures of Ichigo’s friends that the fucking cop had taken.   
“Hiruma Yoichi?” asked the one with the glasses. A tall, tan, foreign teen stood silently next to him.   
“Who’s asking?”  
The teen pushed his glasses up his nose, making them flash in the light.  
“I’m Ishida Uryuu. This is Yasutora Sado. Ichigo sent us to walk you home.”  
“Che. And why couldn’t he?”  
“He had somewhere to be.”  
Somewhere more important to him than his boyfriend? Didn’t sound like Ichigo. Hiruma saw some of his team staring at him and the other two curiously. The linebackers were glaring suspiciously at the Karakura high schoolers.   
“Che. Let’s go.” Hiruma started walking and the other two followed, one on either side of him.   
“So,” Hiruma said after they walked for a while, “Does Ichigo being gone have to do with that vigilante thing?”  
Ishida looked at him, startled. Hiruma let a sinister grin stretch across his lips.   
“Oh? Did he not tell you that I knew?”  
Hiruma’s grin dropped, “Where is he?’  
Ishida just looked ahead of him again.  
“…He’s in a meeting.” Came from the other side of Hiruma. Hiruma turned to look at Yasutora, but he didn’t say anything else.   
“With who?”  
“None of your business.” Ishida snapped. Hiruma glared at him.  
“My boyfriend, my business.” He hissed.   
“The less you know, the better.” Yasutora rumbled.   
Hiruma scowled. Trying to get information from them was like pulling teeth. They didn’t answer anymore of his questions and eventually Hiruma just stopped trying.   
\------------------  
Hiruma was distracted by a grinding sound. In the dim light, a part of the wall opened up. He heard a chittering come from the opening and he gulped, wondering what Raiko had in store for him now. Hiruma was shivering now, from the cold of the concrete room. He couldn’t feel his hands anymore. The chittering came again and Hiruma swore it was the creepiest sound he’d ever heard. Footsteps and a clicking sound came with the next chitter. Hiruma could see a shadow appear in the opening in the wall. Another chitter. It was coming from the shadow.   
The creature that stepped out into the dirty, hospital-like light was something straight out of someone’s nightmares. It was human shaped, with long claws on its hands and feet. It walked on all fours and its claws made a clicking sound on the floor. Its body was mottled black and blue, like it was one giant bruise and its face…it didn’t have a face. Just twisted skin where it should have been.   
The thing walked further into the room, tilting its head this way and that. It looked like it was listening. Listening for what, Hiruma didn’t know. His breath hitched as it turned towards him. His heart pounded. As it got closer, Hiruma could see in its face, in its limbs, in its claws and skin and the way it moved, that this was not special effects. This was not FX makeup or prosthetics or a very flexible human that could walk on all fours. This was real. The words kept repeating over and over in Hiruma’s head.  
This was real.  
This was real.  
This wasn’t fake.  
The creature in front of him was a real thing, not a person in a costume.   
It crept closer to him.   
Hiruma screamed.   
\---------------------  
Just outside the compound, hiding among the roof tiles, Ichigo heard a scream and felt a fear like he never had before.


	4. Chapter 4

They’d had to hold him down after he’d heard that scream.  
“Let me go!” Ichigo shouted, struggling under the weight of three men. They pushed him further into the roof tiles and shushed him. One of the team that wasn’t holding him down peered over the top of the roof to check if he’d been heard.  
“Be quiet.” The team leader said lowly, “If you go rushing in we’ll all be screwed, remember? Even Hiruma-san.”  
Ichigo went limp at that, panting from trying so hard to get out of the hold he was in. The other men cautiously let him go, ready to grab him if he made a break for it again.   
“Kurosaki-san,” the team leader said, “You don’t know that that was Hiruma-san.”  
It was true. The scream had been too far away to be anything but a faint sound.   
“We need to proceed carefully and follow the plan if we want to get Hiruma-san out of there with no consequences.”  
Ichigo nodded wordlessly. He knew that, but it was so hard to do that when Hiruma could be hurting right now. The rest of the team joined the one person watched the compound, peering over the top of the roof, and waiting for their opening.  
\-----------------------------  
“Are you sure about this?” Ichigo asked for the millionth time, “We can still go do something else. It’s not too late.”  
“I’m sure.” Hiruma said, “I have to meet them sometime. It’s better to get it over with sooner rather than later.”  
“I guess so,” Ichigo frowned, “But he’s—my dad is—my family’s a weird one.” Ichigo finally settled on.   
“Heh. I know. You’ve told me before and you keep telling me now. It’ll be fine.”  
Ichigo put a hand on Hiruma’s arm, stopping him on their walk to Ichigo’s house.  
“I just—I don’t want them to scare you away.” Ichigo said softly.  
“They won’t scare me away, Ichigo.” Hiruma said turning to him. There was also a softer note in his voice. Ichigo smiled at him and Hiruma blinked and looked away. “Besides,” he said, all softness gone, “Who could scare away the devil?”  
Ichigo snorted, “The biggest idiot on the planet, that’s who.”  
“Che.”  
The two of them continued down the residential street of Karakura. Ichigo heard footsteps behind them and casually glanced over his shoulder, only to see Keigo running towards them with a goofy look on his face. Ichigo groaned.  
“Ichigo!” Keigo shouted, drawing the words out. He threw himself at Ichigo. Ichigo casually roundhouse kicked him in the face, sending him flying.   
“Yo, Keigo.” He said.  
“Wah! Ichigo, why are you so mean to me?” Keigo cried, latching onto Ichigo’s leg.   
Ichigo just sighed as he waited for the rest of the group behind Keigo to catch up. Hiruma looked on with a perplexed expression so slight, that only Ichigo could see it. Hiruma shoved his hands into his pockets, body language sliding towards uncomfortable as the rest of Ichigo’s friends caught up. They stared curiously as Hiruma off to the side, but greeted Ichigo.   
“Guys,” Ichigo said. He walked over to Hiruma, putting his arm around him, “This is my boyfriend, Hiruma Yoichi.”  
Ichigo felt Hiruma jolt the smallest bit in his arms and wondered if he’d gone too far in calling Hiruma his boyfriend. They hadn’t really put a label on what they were. They continued walking to Ichigo’s house with his friends in tow after they’d said hello to Hiruma. They chatted lightly, Hiruma mostly silent and side-eyeing Ishida and Chad. When they got to the clinic, Ichigo was quick to shove his friends on their way.  
“’kay, we’re here. Bye, guys.” Ichigo said quickly, grabbing Hiruma’s hand to pull him towards the house.   
Tatsuki crossed her arms at him, “Aren’t you going to invite us in?”  
“No.”  
“Aw, come on Ichigo!” Keigo whined, “We’re your friends.”  
“Yeah and it’ll be enough of a clusterfuck with just my dad there. See you later.”  
Keigo started to cry again about how Ichigo was mean, but the rest of his friends shrugged it off and went their separate ways. They were nowhere in sight by the time Ichigo had dragged Hiruma to the front door. Ichigo let out a sigh.  
“Sorry that they got shoved onto you like that.”  
Hiruma shrugged nonchalantly, “I didn’t care.”  
“Yes you did.”  
Hiruma looked away after a small staring contest. Before Ichigo could even reach for the door, it was flung open and his father threw himself through it, leg out in a kicking position.  
“Ich-i-go!” he shouted much like Keigo had.   
Ichigo stepped out of the way of the kick, bringing Hiruma with him. Isshin sailed past them, landing on the sidewalk in a half split and skidding down it. Before Isshin could turn around, Ichigo stepped inside with an arm around Hiruma and shut the door behind them, locking it. There was silence for a moment and then frantic pounding.   
“Ichigo? Ichigo! Why did you dodge daddy’s kick of love?” the doorknob rattled, “Ichigo!”  
Ichigo just sighed and toed his shoes off. Hiruma followed his motions after hesitating for a minute, staring at the door and followed his further into the house.  
“You’re just going to leave him out there?” Hiruma asked with a raised eyebrow.  
“He’ll find another way in. He always does.”  
They entered the kitchen to find Yuzu and Karin making dinner.  
“Yo.” Ichigo greeted.  
“Hi Ichi-Nii!” Yuzu spotted Hiruma, “Who’s your friend?”  
Ichigo rubbed the back of his neck, “Actually, this is my boyfriend.”  
Hiruma bowed and said a polite “Nice to meet you” as Karin and Yuzu’s jaws dropped.  
“Since when do you have a boyfriend?” Karin asked, “Wait, since when are you gay?”  
“I’m not gay, I’m bi.”  
Before Karin could say anything else, Yuzu turned to Ichigo.  
“Ichi-Nii! Why didn’t you tell us you had a boyfriend and he was coming over! I would have made something more special than plain old curry.”  
There was a knock on the kitchen window and a cry of “Let daddy in!” Karin closed the curtains and Hiruma raised an eyebrow in amusement.   
“I’m sorry, Yuzu.” Ichigo said as she pouted at him, “I just…I didn’t know how to tell you.”  
Yuzu smiled at him, “Its okay, Ichi-nii. But next time you should tell me when someone special comes over!” She waved her wooden spoon at him.   
“Why bring him over now, anyway? The perfect time to bring him over would’ve been when the old goat was out of town.”  
“He’s the one who said to bring him over.”  
“You told him, but not us!”  
“I didn’t tell him! He found out! He saw the picture of Yoichi on my phone and brought it up.”  
“You still should’ve told us…”  
“Sorry.”  
“Just introduce us properly.”  
“Yoichi, these are my sisters, Karin and Yuzu. Karin, Yuzu, this is my boyfriend, Hiruma Yoichi.”  
“Hey.” Said Karin.  
“Nice to meet you!” said Yuzu.  
Hiruma smiled at them with a sharp toothed grin. Karin didn’t look fazed and Yuzu just blinked.   
“Come on, Yoichi. Let me show you that book I was talking about.” Ichigo led Hiruma to the staircase, Yuzu calling out “I’ll let you know when dinner is ready!” as they climbed it.  
Ichigo turned on the light and walked over to his desk as Hiruma studied the little decorated, but well lived-in room. A bed, a desk, a bookshelf, and a dusty TV took up all the wall space and the hardwood floor was well worn from being abused by feet and a desk chair throughout the years.   
“Found it.” Ichigo pulled a book out of a desk drawer and sat down on the bed with it. Hiruma went and sat down next to him as Ichigo thumbed through the pages, occasionally pausing at a highlighted line. He closed the book and held it out to Hiruma.   
“Shakespeare is my favorite.” Ichigo explained as Hiruma took the book, “I know you said you’ve only read one of his plays, and that was for a class, so that’s for you.”  
Hiruma looked up at him with a little bit of shock on his face. He’d thought he was going to lend it to him, not give it to him. The only time Hiruma had ever really gotten gifts was from his grandmother on holidays. No one else had ever given him anything, not even Kurita or Musashi.   
“I’ve had that thing since middle school, so I know it old and it might fall apart at any minute-“  
“I like it.”  
“You do? Are you sure you don’t just want a new one? It will probably last longer.”  
“No. I like this one.” He said as he flipped through the pages. This one had more meaning than one from a store. “What are the highlights?”  
“Just lines that I really liked.” Ichigo said sheepishly, “There are some definitions and notes in there too. Shakespeare can be really hard to understand.”  
Hiruma closed the book and turned to Ichigo, “Thanks.” It was as genuine a thanks as Hiruma could give.  
Ichigo blinked at him, “No problem?”  
They sat in silence for a few minutes, staring at each other. Slowly their faces came closer together until their lips met. Hiruma tangled his fingers in Ichigo’s hair and Ichigo wrapped his arms around Hiruma’s waist as their tongues met and slid around each other. Ichigo gently pushed Hiruma back onto the bed, book falling to the side. He lowered himself onto Hiruma, bodies, from chest to hips, flush against each other. They parted, panting, and stared at each other some more.   
“Do you,” Ichigo cleared his throat, “Do you want to do something?”  
Hiruma nodded breathlessly and their lips crashed together again, hands roaming bodies this time, touching places they haven’t touched yet. Ichigo slipped his hands under Hiruma’s shirt and hiked it up to expose his stomach and chest. He laid open mouth kisses down Hiruma’s neck and smiled into them when Hiruma shivered a little. Ichigo wasn’t sure how far Hiruma wanted to go, but decided to go for it and licked a long stripe up his stomach to his sternum. Hiruma gasped and Ichigo gave his nipples firm licks, making Hiruma let out breathy little moans. He swirled his tongue around one nipple and nibbled on it, trying to figure out what Hiruma liked. Hiruma arched into the gentle teeth and slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle a louder moan. He was shivering a little now, pants getting tighter by the second and Ichigo could feel it. Not that Ichigo’s pants were faring any better. Ichigo grasped Hiruma’s hips and rubbed their hard-ons together. Hiruma had both hands over his mouth now, trying to keep quiet so no one would hear them downstairs. He wrapped his legs around Ichigo’s waist, moving with him and growing frustrated at the stupid jeans that blocked the chance of skin on skin. He didn’t think he was ready for that quite yet, but he could still be annoyed. Ichigo reached down to fumble with a button and zipper and Hiruma’s eyes grew large and he reached down to stop him.   
“Wait,” Hiruma panted. Ichigo stopped and looked down at him with dark chocolate colored eyes, also panting. His hips were shaking from trying not to move, waiting like Hiruma said to.   
“What’s wrong?”  
“Let’s,” how did he explain this, “Let’s just leave it like this.”  
Ichigo let go of Hiruma’s pants, “Okay.” And it was okay. Ichigo wouldn’t take what Hiruma wasn’t willing to give. Ichigo leaned back down and they kissed, hips starting to move again. Ichigo’s hands wandered up and down Hiruma’s bared chest and back and down to his hips, holding them as them as he ground his hips against Hiruma’s.   
There was a thud so loud against the window that it rattled the glass. Both boys yelped and fell off the side of the bed, Hiruma landing on top of Ichigo. They scrambled up just as Yuzu called up the stairs, “Dinner’s ready!”, and hurried to fix their clothes, erections completely gone now as the real world slammed back in place around them. They chuckled nervously, both realizing just how close they’d come to getting caught and left the room to walk down the stairs to dinner.   
\---------------------  
Their opening came a mere minute later when the team member they’d sent to create a distraction did his job. The guards patrolling the rooftops heard a clatter and left their posts to investigate. The Onmitsukido swiftly entered the compound, staying in the shadows cast by the tall walls surrounding the compound. The five of them split up, their sixth member staying outside the walls and the team leader staying with Ichigo as they began to search the mansion.  
\-------------------  
Their next date was at the Tokyo fair after the lottery that decided which teams would be playing against each other. People were beginning to feel the cold of fall and Hiruma was looking gorgeous in a white coat with a fur lined hood. Ichigo couldn’t look away from him the whole time they were at the fair.   
“What?” Hiruma asked him for the seventh time since their date began, “I swear to god, Ichigo if there’s something on my face and you’re not telling me…”  
Ichigo chuckled, “It’s nothing like that.”  
“Then what? You’ve been staring at me all day.”  
“You should wear that coat more often.”  
Hiruma raised an eyebrow and crossed him arms, tapping his foot to show that he was still waiting for an actual answer.  
“Sorry. You’re just,” Ichigo looked into Hiruma’s green eyes, “really beautiful.”  
Hiruma’s eyes widened, imperceptible to anyone but Ichigo. Hiruma looked away from him and changed the subject.  
“I want to play that shooting game.” He grabbed Ichigo’s arm and dragged him over to the booth with the bb guns and the papers with stars on them that you had to shoot out. Ichigo didn’t do too bad. Hiruma won easily and chose a giant stuffed lion as his prize, which he promptly gave to Ichigo.   
They rode the ferris wheel at the end of the day. Ichigo insisted on it, being the cliché sap he was. They were lucky enough to stop at the very top and Hiruma laid his head on Ichigo’s shoulder, way up there where no one could see them.   
\-----------------------  
He would see Hiruma again, Ichigo swore. He would see him in that white coat again. He would look into his eyes again. Hiruma would lay his head on Ichigo’s shoulder again like he did that day. They would do all the things they’d never done and all the things they had done a second time. They would both survive this ordeal and they would grow old together and then die and live in Soul Society together.   
And that was the moment Ichigo realized he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Hiruma. He almost stopped in the middle of a hallway at the realization, but someone was coming and he joined his temporary leader in the shadows on the ceiling.   
“You okay?” the leader asked when the person was gone, “You faltered there for a moment.”  
“Yeah. Just realized something.”  
\--------------------  
Ichigo walked into the tea house to Hiruma sitting in a booth with two other people and grinning a dangerous grin and saying “You were the one who started it.”  
“Yo.” Ichigo said as he approached the table. There was a high schooler with dreads sitting opposite of Hiruma on the top of the booth seat and a brown haired girl sitting out of the way of both of them.   
Hiruma gave a casual wave back and slid over in the booth so Ichigo could sit next to him.   
“Um…” the girl said curiously. She was interrupted before she could get another word out.  
“Who’s this piece of trash?” the other high schoolers demanded.  
“None of your fucking business.” Hiruma shot back.  
Ichigo could sense the animosity between the boys and chose not to say anything. He casually rested his elbows on the table. “What’s going on?” he asked Hiruma.  
“An interview for a football magazine.” Hiruma said at the same time the other high schooler said “None of your business, trash.”  
Ichigo stared at the dreaded teenager across from them, then tilted his head and squinted at him.   
“The hell are you doing, trash?”  
“You remind me of someone.”  
Well, two someones. Ulqiorra may have called everyone trash, but that attitude was all Grimmjow’s. He didn’t look anything like either of them, but Ichigo wondered if he was a descendant of one of them. Or both of them if their bloodlines crossed along the way. Did hollows even have descendants?  
“U-um…” Ichigo looked back to the girl sitting at the end of the table.  
“Oh, sorry. You can continue your interview.”  
“Right! Now, “What is your reason for playing American football?””  
The teenager across from Ichigo glared at him, then Hiruma, then him, like he couldn’t decide who to try to kill with a look. He squished his fingers together like he was crushing something and said, “Crunch. I want to crush people like that. I thought I’d show commoners that their efforts are useless in the face of true talent.”  
Ichigo stared at him with a dull look on his face, not impressed in the least.  
The girl nervously turned to Hiruma, “A-and the “reason you play American football”, Hiruma-San?”  
“Because it’s fun.” Hiruma said while putting a piece of gum in his mouth.   
Ichigo inwardly smiled at the answer; while outwardly he watched as the teenager on top of the booth got more and more pissed off the longer he stared at him. The teenager leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.  
“If you keep staring at me, I’m gonna smash your god damned face in.” he threatened.  
Ichigo wanted to snort, but he also didn’t want to start a brawl in the middle of a tea house, so he brought his attention to the girl as she said, “Eh…Mmm… Since it seems to be a sensitive subject, let’s move on to a lighter subject!  
Exactly, what kind of girl do you like?”  
She pushed play on her phone and the three boys watched as the other players answered on the screen. Ichigo casually sat back and wondered how Hiruma would handle answering this. He’d understand if Hiruma just answered the question like any teenage boy would. It was a hard thing to come out, especially to others who would definitely view you differently afterwards.   
“Pretty girls. I don’t need any ugly women.” The other teenager said.  
Hiruma paused for a moment when the amateur reporter looked to him for his answer, then a shit eating grin took over his face. He rested an arm on Ichigo’s shoulder and rested his chin on that arm, staring the girl straight in the face.  
“Why don’t you ask my boyfriend?”  
The reporter’s mouth dropped open and a flush covered her face. The other teenager stared in disbelief at the two across from him and then scoffed.   
“I shoulda know you would be a fag, trash.” He said to Hiruma.   
Hiruma stared darkly at him, but Ichigo shot up out of his seat and slammed his hands on the table.  
“You call him that again,” Ichigo said angrily, “And I’ll make sure you never talk again.”  
The dreaded teenager snorted, “What? You gonna kill me if I insult your precious piece of trash?”  
Ichigo’s fists clenched on the table, “I was thinking more along the lines of ripping your fucking tongue out of your mouth.”  
Ichigo’s hollow came nearer to the surface in glee. ‘Do it.’ The hollow said, ‘He insulted our Queen.’   
Ichigo shoved him back down and the other teen scoffed.   
“You couldn’t even touch me.”  
“Want a bet?”  
Hiruma pulled on the back of Ichigo’s jacket at that, forcing him to sit down next to him again. He remembered what Ichigo had done to the Yakuza in the alley. If he’d done that to professional killers, Agon didn’t stand a chance.   
“Knock it off.” Hiruma said, “We’re here for an interview, not a fight.”  
“U-um, yes!” the girl said, “Next question! Is there any special training you’ve done to prepare for this tournament?”  
“Training?” the dreaded teen scoffed again, “Nothing at all.”  
Hiruma laughed, “I’ve got a special weapon to use against Shinryuuji. It’ll be completely different from anything that Deimon has done before. You’d better be prepared, Fucking Dreads.”  
“Now, for the last question…” the reporter said, “What do you think is the most important thing for an American football player to have?”  
‘Fucking Dreads’ picked a fork up off the table.   
“Talent.” He said, “Absolute talent. Speed, technique,” He crushed the fork around his finger, “And power.”  
The reporter looked terrified at the display of raw strength. Hiruma simply looked at Dreads. He’d seen far greater displays of power in Ichigo.   
“Those without talent get in the way simply by existing.” Dreads continued, “Well, the only one worth using would be Ikkyu.” He tossed the balled up fork and it landed in an empty glass on the table, “22 of me. That would be a dream team.”  
Hiruma laughed at him.   
“It might be easier to break a team made of 22 of the same cards.” He said.  
“Listen close, Trash.” Dreads said lowly as he got up, “Exactly 2 years ago from now, whether or not that pig called Kurita could enter Shinryuuji was entirely my decision. It’s such a relief that I ran him out. Really. If that slowpoke had gotten in my way I don’t know what I would have done.”   
Hiruma got a murderous look on his face, colder than Ichigo had ever seen on him. Ichigo made to get up and smash his face in, but Hiruma grabbed his arm before he got more than a few inches up off his seat.   
“A zero speed pig and a zero power brat. Keep on playing with those failures until you die.” Dreads said.  
Hiruma chuckled, “You don’t like normal people because they work hard. Then for you, this match, that guy’s play will surely be an amusing show!”  
“Huh?” Dread’s said, “That guy?”  
:-:-:-:-  
‘That guy’ turned out to be the least athletically inclined of all the Devilbats. He’d been one of the quiet ones on the team when Ichigo had trained with them. He’d made an absolute fool out of Shinryuji and Ichigo liked him all the more for that.   
When Agon had slammed Hiruma’s face into the ground and made him bleed, Ichigo saw red. He saw Hiruma’s blood, then he saw Agon’s coating his hands.   
‘Just kill him already, King.’ His hollow whispered, ‘He made our most precious thing bleed. How can you forgive and forget that?’  
Oh, there was no way he was going to. A plan started forming in his mind, even as he absently applauded with a few other people when Kobayakawa slammed Agon’s face into the dirt the same way Agon had done to Hiruma.  
\------------------  
Ichigo really didn’t remember much other from that game. He did remember, very clearly, his confrontation with Agon after the game.  
\-------------------  
It was easy to get Agon alone. He just waited outside of Shinryuji’s appointed locker room. The rest of the Shinryuji team shot him curious looks, but Ichigo ignored them. He waited until Agon finally came out, and stopped at the sight of him.  
“What the fuck?” he said when he spotted Ichigo leaning against the wall, “Were you just waiting for me out here like some faggy stalker?”  
Ichigo pushed himself off the wall, “I’d say something about beating the shit out of you if you called me a fag one more time, but I’m here about something else.”  
“What? You here to avenge your precious boyfriend?” Agon sneered.  
“That’s exactly what I’m here to do.”  
Agon laughed, “So, you want to get your ass kicked? I could use a punching bag to blow off some steam.”  
Agon set his sports bag down and walked over with his hands in his pockets.  
“I’ll even let you have the first shot. It won’t hit me, but at least you can say you almost got me.” Agon bragged.  
“Put your fists up,” Ichigo said, “I don’t fight people who just stand there like a dumbass.”  
Agon’s smirk faded into a scowl and his hands came out of his pockets. The two teenagers stared at each other for a second, each waiting for the other to move. Then, without warning, Agon lunged for Ichigo, fist swinging, only for it to hit empty air.   
What? Was the only thought in Agon’s mind until Ichigo punched him with his own fist right in the side of the face. Agon couldn’t keep his balance with that punch. He fell over sideways and stared at Ichigo uncomprehendingly. He’d been right in front of him, but then, faster than even he could track, he’d moved to the side, raised his fist, and hit Agon. Faster than even he could track. Him. With his god-speed reactions and movements. There was nothing he couldn’t track.   
Agon stood up almost shakily. He lunged at Ichigo again, not bothering to raise his fists this time. He didn’t want to just punch him now. He wanted to throw him down on the ground and beat the utter shit out of him. Again, Ichigo dodged and again, Agon found a fist in his face and himself on the ground.  
Oh, he was going to get it now. This time, Agon didn’t lunge. He ran at Ichigo and unleashed a flurry of punches. Ichigo dodged each one with ease.   
What. The. Fuck. There was no way he dodged every single one of those punches, but there he was, standing there without a scratch on him, looking bored even. As Agon stood across from Ichigo, panting from effort, he felt something he never had before in his life. He felt fear. He now knew what it felt like to face off against someone bigger and better than you and not have a snowball’s chance in hell at beating them.   
Agon hated it. He wanted to strangle the feeling and shove it in a dumpster, but he couldn’t shake it. So, he did what he knew in the unprecedented situation. He talked smack.  
“You know, I’ll never forget the feeling of slamming that piece of trash fag’s face into the ground.” Agon smirked. Making Ichigo angry would lead to a mistake. “Maybe I should do it again. Just because it made me feel all warm and fuzzy insi—“  
He was cut off when Ichigo’s fist connected with the middle of his face. Agon howled as blood gushed from his broken nose.   
What the fuck. What the fuck. The redhead standing over him hadn’t just used a speed on par with Eyeshield 21, he’d fucking disappeared and then reappeared right in front of Agon. That wasn’t normal. That wasn’t human.  
Ichigo hauled Agon up by the front of his shirt and slammed him against a wall. Agon struggled, trying to get away from what might be, but probably wasn’t, a normal teenager.   
“Listen here, you stupid fuck,” Ichigo hissed, easily holding onto Agon, “If you ever come near Hiruma Yoichi again, I will do so much worse to you than just beat you around. You won’t bother him. You won’t go near him. You won’t cross paths with him. If you do,” Ichigo let a gleefully cackling Shiro scrape the surface, making his eyes turn black and gold and his voice take on a double tone, “I’ll make you regret it.”  
Agon froze and stared at Ichigo with wide eyes, whispering “What the fuck” over and over again. His breathing sped up and he actually started shaking. For a second, Ichigo thought that maybe he’d gone too far, but then the image of Hiruma getting slammed into the turf entered his mind and pushed that thought away.   
Agon was incoherent. He wasn’t able to do more than whisper the same phrase over and over, so Ichigo let him go. His message had been read loud and clear. Ichigo’s eyes went back to normal and he walked away, leaving Agon to slide down the wall in shock. His work was done here. Hiruma wouldn’t be bothered anymore.  
\----------------------  
More screams started coming and the team leader and Ichigo followed them through the maze of hallways. The maze and screams let them to a metal door with bloodstains on it. The Onmitsukido member picked the iron padlock with his tools while Ichigo waited anxiously, his fingers twitching. The lock popped open and the team leader quickly took it off the door as Ichigo threw the metal slab open.   
One of the monsters with the twisted faces stood over a chained up Hiruma. Blood dripped from its claws. Hiruma hadn’t even noticed the door opening, too focused on the monster in front of him and the pain of his wounds.   
Shiro let out an inhuman growl, a hollow growl, through Ichigo’s throat. The Onmitsukido leader looked at him, alarmed, and the monster whirled around at the sound. Hiruma’s eyes finally focused on the doorway. The monster tilted its grotesque head at them and Ichigo charged it. He kicked it to the side, away from Hiruma, and the team leader took that chance to dart over the Hiruma, lock picks at the ready.   
Ichigo took out all his frustration of the past few months on the monster. His frustrations of trying to keep Hiruma safe, of not being able to really beat the few humans that tried to hurt him into the ground, the nervousness of Hiruma finding out about Shinigami and being put in danger, the worry of the past few days about his safety. It all came out in swift punches and kicks that broke bones and eventually killed the creature in front of him. It never even got a hit in. Ichigo stood panting over the dead creatures the same way it had stood over Hiruma. He turned back to Hiruma and his team mate just as he picked the last manacle open. The team leader had been murmuring reassurances to Hiruma as he’d picked the locks, but they hadn’t been working very well if the way Hiruma was trying to push himself into the wall was any indication. The Onmitsukido member motioned for Ichigo to come over. Ichigo went and swiftly, but carefully, picked Hiruma up in his arms. Hiruma flinched from him, but Ichigo kept a tight hold on him. His team mate went and checked the hallway before motioning for Ichigo to follow him. Ichigo darted out into the hallway, melding with the shadows as best he could with Hiruma’s bright hair and kimono as the Onmitsukido leader closed the metal door and locked the padlock again.   
Then, they ran. As fast as they could inside the compound, as fast as they could while avoiding servants and guards, they ran through the noble house of Raiko and out onto the rooftops of Seireitai. The other members of their team caught up to them easily enough once they too were out of the compound. Ichigo sped up once all the members of his team were back with them. They, once again, avoided the light of the lanterns and crowded night life as they shunpoed to the Fourth. They were hard pressed to keep up with Ichigo. He kept ending up far ahead of them, only to realize that his team, his guard, was no longer flanking him. He slowed down enough that they could catch up, only for it to happen again and again all the way to the Fourth. It was dangerous, it was reckless, it was everything Ichigo usually did, but he was trying so hard to restrain himself because he knew that it was safer for Hiruma to be with a group.   
They got to the Fourth’s empty courtyard when Hiruma finally wiggled his way out of Ichigo’s arms. Ichigo nearly dropped him mid-shunpo, but held onto long enough to stop and set him down. Hiruma dropped to his hands and knees and threw up and Ichigo winced. He hadn’t thought about the effect shunpoing around would have on a human. Hiruma heaved a few more times and Ichigo’s temporary team mates caught up to them. Hiruma turned over to sit on the stone pathway and looked at them with no small amount of fear in his eyes. Ichigo supposed they would look intimidating with their black suits and masks in the light of the lanterns. Ichigo slowly crouched in front of Hiruma and held out a hand to him. Hiruma scooted back, away from him, fearfully. Ichigo dropped his hand and just looked at Hiruma for the first time since rescuing him.  
His hair wasn’t spiked up for once. His green eyes were wide and he was breathing harshly. His feet were bare, he was still wearing the earrings Ichigo had gotten him, and his extravagant kimono had blood on the front of it. Ichigo reached for him, for the his blood soaked front and Hiruma shot backwards.  
“Stay away from me!” he shouted.   
Ichigo let his hand drop and Hiruma’s panting was all that could be heard in the courtyard for a minute.   
“We need to look at your wounds.” One of the Onmitsukido said from behind Ichigo, “You need medical treatment.”  
Hiruma’s hands went to his front, like he was just remembering the horrible cuts that were there. That wasn’t good. If he could forget about a wound like that, something had to be wrong. Ichigo went forward and tried to look at his wounds again. Again, Hiruma shot back, but this time Ichigo followed him, He grabbed onto the folded edges of the kimono to open them so he could get a better look. Hiruma promptly fought him like a wildcat. He kicked and scratched and bit at Ichigo until Ichigo got fed up with it and ripped his black mask off.  
“Yoichi!” he shouted, staring Hiruma in the face. Hiruma froze, looking at him with wide eyes as he took in his features.   
“Ichigo?” he whispered.   
“Yeah, it’s me.” Ichigo said in a low voice, “You’re safe now, Yoichi. I promise. No one is going to hurt you here. I won’t let them.”  
Hiruma stared at Ichigo, his mouth opening and closing without making a sound. Ichigo was barely able to catch Hiruma when his eyelids fluttered closed and he passed out from blood loss.


End file.
